


Just Breathe

by atlas (cissysullivan)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: J2, M/M, Terminal Illnesses, j2 bigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cissysullivan/pseuds/atlas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki reconnect in a support group for teens with life-threatening illnesses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is not an AU of The Fault in Our Stars, but it was a little bit inspired by it. The only similarities these two fics have is one of the two main characters dies and they meet in a support group. I would also like to point out I am not a doctor or an expert with the illnesses portrayed in this fic by any means. I did as much research as I could, but this is still just the perspective of someone who has no true knowledge of these things, so please keep that in mind when reading this if you find anything off.

_Eleven years ago._

Jared was in school today. That was the first thing Jensen noticed when he arrived at his first grade classroom one early Monday morning: Jared sitting at his desk, swinging his legs, his chin resting in his hand, a tube running under his nose and into the backpack he kept slung over his shoulders.

When Jensen had first asked him about it, Jared had told him he needed it to breathe. When Jensen asked why, Jared explained, “Because my heart can’t get all the oxygen I need to the rest of my body, so I hafta have this.” He’d smiled then and suggested they go play in the sandbox. It had been the last time they really talked about his condition, though it wasn’t the last Jensen heard of it.

Throughout the school year, Jensen’s teacher provided them various explanations for Jared’s absences. The first time he’d been out of class for over a week, she’d said, “Jared has a condition that makes his heart not as strong as ours. That’s why he can’t run in gym class and why he’s not here right now. He’s in the hospital where some of the best doctors in California are taking good care of him so that he can come back to us in a couple of weeks.”

As a result of his illness, Jared got a lot of special treatment. Some of their classmates didn’t think it was fair and took to picking on Jared. It wasn’t more than Jared could handle until they took his oxygen tank. Jared chased after them, trying to get it back, shouting at them that he couldn’t breathe well without it. They wouldn’t let him get it. They held it just out of his reach until Jared collapsed, gasping for air and clutching his chest. They didn’t know how serious it was until he started screaming. The teachers called an ambulance and Jared was taken to the emergency room. The boys who’d stolen his oxygen tank were expelled and their parents fined a great deal of money to help pay for the operation that Jared needed. He’d suffered a heart attack from the exertion of chasing his tormentors.

That had been the last time anyone had picked on Jared Padalecki, but it wasn’t the last time Jared had to be rushed out of school via ambulance. Finally, the teachers called his parents and advised them not to allow him to come to school unless they were one-hundred percent sure he was healthy enough to _be_ in school. Jared’s presence in class dwindled to only a handful of times a month then and, though Jensen had become friends with him _after_ this rule was put in place, he still missed him when he wasn’t there.

Jensen slid his own backpack off his shoulders as he sat down in the seat next to Jared’s. When the teacher had found out they were friends, she’d placed Jensen next to him; she knew how few friends Jared had. Their teacher had told Jensen, she was sorry for moving him away from his other friends, but neither one of them were complaining. They got to spend more time together and pass notes when the teacher’s back was turned. What was not to like about their new seating arrangements?

“Hi,” Jensen said, rifling through his backpack and pulling out his homework from the night before.

Jared jumped and blinked a few times before smiling at Jensen, “Hi.”

“How are you today?” Jensen asked.

“I’m good,” Jared grinned.

Jensen grinned back.

Jared was sick. He looked sick; his skin always had a sickly pallor to it and he carried an oxygen tank around on his back, but his smile shone brighter than the sun.

“Was the homework hard?” Jared asked.

Jensen shrugged one shoulder. “Not really,” he lied. In truth, he’d hardly understood it and was certain he’d gotten every single one of the answers wrong. But he’d tried his best and his parents had said that was what mattered.

At eight o’clock, their teacher came in and the school day began.

They went through math, science, English, and social studies before it was _finally_ time for lunch at noon. Jensen stuffed his papers and notebooks into his desk while Jared packed up his coloring books and crayons. He never really did any work in school. There wasn’t any point to it anyway. Just as likely as not, he wouldn’t be in school the next day.

“What’s for lunch today?” Jared asked as they headed down to the cafeteria with the rest of the class. They all had places in line. Jensen was ahead of Jared, so he could help him pick out healthy things to eat. His heart couldn’t handle fattening food like everyone else’s.

Jensen squinted at the menu hanging above the kitchen and said, “Tomato basil soup and hamburgers.”

Jared wrinkled his nose. “What do they have for me?”

Jensen stood on his tiptoes, trying to see over the other kids’ heads to the kitchen, but he wasn’t tall enough. He sighed. “Probably chicken noodle soup or a salad.”

Jared sighed. “I don’t like rabbit food.”

Jensen didn’t respond.

They got their food – Jensen had a hamburger and a side of French fries whereas Jared had the tomato basil soup and some chicken noodle soup, though it was unlikely he would finish both - and sat down at the table assigned to their class. The boys ate quickly. The sooner they finished, the sooner they would be able to go out for recess and they wanted as much time outside as possible.

They dumped their excess food into one of the two large garbage bins in the cafeteria. They hurried outside.

It was a beautiful April afternoon. The wind blew through the trees, making the leaves rustle and the shadows on the bright green grass sway in an almost graceful way. The birds were chirping, singing to one another. There were clouds drifting lazily across the sky. It was uncommon weather for California and the boys turned their faces up to the sun, their eyes closed, smiling as the appreciated what they knew would be one of the last nice days before the humidity and heat of summer hit.

Without saying a word, the boys bounded into the field that stretched between the first and second playgrounds. Jensen ran ahead of Jared, but, when he realized how much farther ahead of him he was, he slowed and waited for his friend to catch up. Once he had, they walked hand in hand to the middle of the field, sat down, laid back, and stared up at the clouds slowly crossing the sky, their fingers still interlocked.

“That one looks like an elephant,” Jensen said, pointing.

Jared giggled. “It looks like a spoon.”

Jensen frowned. “No, it doesn’t. It looks like an elephant.”

“Where are its legs?” Jared asked, turning his gaze from the sky to his friend.

Jensen squinted at the cloud. “There,” he replied, pointing again.

“It’s a spoon,” Jared repeated, still giggling.

They were quiet for a little while after that, occasionally breaking the silence to point out a cloud, discussing its shape before they’d lapse back into their companionable silence. Finally, Jared opened his mouth and said softly, “Where do you think you go when you die?”

Jensen kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to talk about this. He knew why Jared was bringing it up. He was sick. He was probably going to die a long time before Jensen. He wasn’t going to see him ever again after that and Jensen didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about losing Jared forever.

“Jen?” Jared had turned to face him.

Jensen blinked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Jared turned back to the sky. “I think we go and sit on clouds,” he said softly. “And when your family dies, they come and sit on the cloud with you.”

Jensen turned to look at him now. There was a sorrow in Jared’s eyes that tugged at his heartstrings. He didn’t fully understand it. He didn’t really get what it meant. He didn’t know what it felt like to know that you were going to die at such a young age and he didn’t want to. He swallowed hard. Jared turned to him.

“That’s probably what happens,” Jensen whispered.

They both returned their gazes to the sky.

They didn’t speak for the rest of recess. They didn’t even comment on the clouds. Jared’s words had affected both of them in different ways, destroyed their vocal chords for the hour and, no matter what they did, no matter how hard they squeezed each other’s fingers, they couldn’t seem to fix them.

When the teachers began to blow their whistles, they both got up in unison and walked back into the school, their hands still intertwined until they got inside. Then they broke apart, went back to class, and pretended their conversation on the field between the two playgrounds had never happened.

That afternoon they hugged and said goodbye. Jensen got on his bus. Jared got in his car with his mom and his younger sister, Megan. He waved goodbye as his mother drove him home. Jensen smiled, wondering when he would see him next.

That was the last day Jensen spent with Jared for eleven years.

 


	2. One

Through the cheap curtains covering the wall of windows to his right, the light shone just as white as the room he lay in. It was just as white as the hallway outside and the other rooms beyond that. It was almost as if once you walked into this building, you were bleached and sterilized like the tools in its operating rooms.

Jensen sighed.

At least, that was how he felt.

Being diagnosed with cancer at fifteen had changed Jensen’s outlook on almost everything. Once upon a time, he’d been excited to get up in the morning. He’d looked forward to each new day. He’d enjoyed going to school, hanging out with his friends, being part of a group, but then he’d collapsed during gym class. When he hadn’t woken up in the nurses office, they’d called an ambulance. When he _had_ woken up, he found out he had cancer. That wasn’t what they’d called it exactly. They’d referred to it as myeloma, a subtype of leukemia. He would need chemotherapy and radiation treatment. He was told this kind of cancer had a seventy percent cure rate and he probably wouldn’t be sick for that long.

Two years later, he was still ill and still being told he was going to be better soon.

Jensen had stopped believing that a year and a half ago.

“You’re giving up too quickly,” his sister, Mackenzie, had scolded him. Everyone in his family visited him, but she visited him the most often. “Some people have cancer for five or six years and _they_ still recover. You don’t know if you’re going to recover or not at this point. You really need to just fight harder.”

“Don’t you think _I_ would know if I were going to die or not?” he retorted, glaring at her as her ran a hand over his bald head. He dug his nails into his scalp. He was used to having hair to tug at, even two years later. The fact that it wasn’t there still angered him. “I don’t give a shit what the doctors say, alright?! I know more about myself than they do.”

Mackenzie glared back at him. “No, you don’t, Jensen. Not in this case.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” she replied, crossing her arms over chest. “But I have to believe they do.”

Jensen almost felt bad for getting angry and snapping at her after that. He kept forgetting that his family would be so badly affected if he died. Mom, Dad, Mackenzie, and, even his older brother, Joshua. Maybe a few of his friends from school that he’d stopped speaking with since he got sick would also care.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his hands, clutching at the thin sheets that covered him up to his waist.

Mackenzie shrugged and pretended her brother’s anger didn’t bother her, but that wasn’t the last time they fought. The next time was only a week later. She came back, carrying her purse in one hand and a small stack of flyers and pamphlets in the other. She took a seat and dumped the flyers in Jensen’s lap, saying without preamble, “You should go.”

Jensen, who had been watching a couple of birds make a nest on the ledge near his window, turned to the stack of flyers and pamphlets. He picked one up. It was glossy and had a picture of a group of kids sitting on plastic chairs in a circle. There was one adult man, who looked healthy while all of the children looked sick. Above the picture in red font were the words, “Group Therapy: Is It Right for You?” Jensen scowled and dropped the pamphlet with a firm, “No.”

Mackenzie frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to go to a group where I get to sit with a bunch of other dying kids and talk about my feelings,” he retorted. “It’s stupid and pointless.”

“Why pointless?” she sounded angry now. “Because you’re going to be dead soon anyway? Have you ever thought you could be wrong about that? Maybe going to this will help you realize that you have a lot to offer in your life and you should try to fight!”

“Fight for what?” Jensen yelled, turning to face her. He realized his mistake even before Mackenzie shouted back, tears filling her eyes, “Fight for _me_!”

They both looked away and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Jensen looked away first, gaze returning to the birds outside his window. Mackenzie stared at the wall over Jensen’s head, furiously blinking back tears.

“You should go,” she repeated, standing. She left the flyers and pamphlets still sitting on Jensen’s lap. “I think you might be happier if you did.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Jensen pretended that the pieces of paper weren’t in his lap for as long as he could. It was a book, he told himself over and over again. It was something he was reading. But he kept seeing the picture of the sick kids and the counselor and finally, if only out of curiosity, he picked up a pamphlet again and opened it.

On the first page, were the words in the same red font, “Choosing Your Therapy Group”. Beneath that, it stated, “ _When choosing a therapy group, you have to make sure that you’re comfortable with not only the people in the group, but who is running the group. If you can’t trust the people you’re speaking with, you should probably find another group. There are many groups out there and you shouldn’t stop trying to find the right one until you do. Don’t give up!_ ”

He scoffed and shut the pamphlet.

It was bullshit. All of it. Why in the world would he want to join a therapy group? Why in the world would he want to put this much thought into finding one to begin with? He didn’t need therapy. He was just fine without it. Mackenzie was wrong.

\- - -

Jensen was reading the next day when Mackenzie came back. He knew it was her coming down the hall because he could hear her heels clicking on the linoleum. When he finally finished his paragraph and looked up at her, he was more than a little startled by what he saw.

His sister looked like a punk rocker.

She wore bright red lipstick, a studded leather jacket, a pair of black leggings, a black tanktop with the Rolling Stones logo on it, and, of course, a pair of studded black heels. She had a hand on one hip, thick black makeup surrounding her eyes, and nail polish as red as the stick on her lips.

“What the hell?” was all Jensen was able to get out. Never once could he remember having seen his sister dress this way.

“I’m here to tell you that you’re going to therapy or I’m going to dig my heels into your crotch,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Mackenzie sighed and wilted into the chair next to his bed. “No,” she mumbled, “not really.” She glanced at him. “I just really want you to go, okay?”

He opened his mouth to explain to her yet again that he wasn’t going to any stupid therapy group, but she cut him off before he could get anything out.

“It’s hard seeing you like this,” she admitted. “You used to be so fun and full of life, and... seeing you reduced to this guy who just doesn’t even care about whether he lives or dies because he’s been sick for two years is really... heartbreaking.”

She kept her eyes averted, but Jensen’s eyes were fixated on her. He’d never heard her say any of this before, let alone _known_ any of it himself.

“I don’t want you to go to therapy because I think you’ll hate it and I’m teasing you,” she insisted, running the pads of her fingers over her smooth, freshly painted nails. “I want you to go because I think you’ll realize that everything isn’t bullshit and there’re reasons to fight for your life, like me and the rest of our family and your friends. They really miss you, Jensen, and they don’t understand why you won’t see any of them or let them do anything for you.” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, something she did when she was trying not to cry. She still refused to look at him. “I want you to be happy again, even if you are sick. There are plenty of people who still have really fulfilling lives, even though they have cancer, and what I want more than anything is for you to be one of those people.”

Mackenzie stood. “I won’t make you go if you really, _really_ don’t want to go, but I really wish you’d at least consider that it might be the right option.”

Now she looked at him and the tears in her eyes were what did him in. “Please, okay?”

Before he could reply, she’d left again.

Jensen waited until the click of her heels had faded back down the hall before he looked at the small stack of pamphlets and flyers again. This time he grabbed another one. It was a cheaply made advertisement for the therapy group that the hospital sponsored every Tuesday and Thursday.

Maybe Mackenzie was right and it wouldn’t be so bad.

There was a chance that everything wasn’t complete bullshit.

 _But what if it is?_ the old familiar voice in the back of his mind asked him. _What if this is just another one of those hippie groups and you’re not going to learn anything other than you’re depressed about being really sick for no reason?_

 _But what if it isn’t?_ Another voice countered. It was a new voice, one Jensen hadn’t heard before today, before Mackenzie came in and bared her soul to him.

It was softer.

It didn’t have as much strength as the other one, but it was the voice that won.

It was the voice that told his sister, “Okay, I’ll go,” when she came in the next day.

And it was the voice that smiled with him when Mackenzie hugged him and said, her tone tearful, “Thank you, Jen.”

Jensen smiled and clutched at her.

Maybe this was the right decision after all.


	3. Two

Coincidentally, the next day was a Tuesday and the therapy group met on the first floor of the hospital Jensen was currently staying in.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to his sister, he was nervous, and when Mackenzie offered to sit and wait with him for the session to start, he didn’t decline. They sat in plastic chairs just outside of the room where the therapy group met. Mackenzie had returned to her typical style of dress and Jensen had pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, finding it preferable to arriving in his hospital gown like he noticed some of the other patients waiting with them had. He wrapped his bald head in a blue kerchief and clutched his IV pole like the lifeline it was.

“You’re going to be fine,” Mackenzie told him for the umpteenth time. Normally, he might tell her to be quiet or say something along the lines of, “I know, Mackenzie”, but he’s too nervous to care, so he lets her talk. “All of the kids here are just like you. They’re all going through similar things. Some of them have cancer. Some of them have other diseases. Anyway, you’re all in the same boat, okay, Jen? Everything’s going to be fine.”

She smiles at him then in an attempt at reassurance and, though he isn’t particularly reassured, he forces a smile and says back, “Thanks, Kenzie.”

Her smile widens just as the door opens and reveals a man with dark hair, golden eyes, and a bright smile.

“C’mon in, guys,” the man said, gesturing with his hand. The kids around him stood up, some with help, some on their own. Some were dressed similarly to Jensen, others were dressed nicer. Jensen figured these were the kids that didn’t have to be hospitalized; they could come here every day from home. He envied them.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” Mackenzie said, giving him a hug.

“I can walk myself back up to my room,” he told her. “I’m not a kid.”

“Yeah, you are,” she said, pulling away, smirking a little.

“I’m older than you,” Jensen reminded her.

“Not by much,” she replied. She sat back down and pulled out a book. Jensen sighed and walked into the therapy room.

Just as in the pamphlet Mackenzie had brought him a few days ago, there were multicolored plastic chairs arranged in a circle. Most of the chairs were taken by the kids he’d seen outside the therapy room. A lot of them were bald like him, but there were a few who had hair and those were the ones that stuck out. He glanced at each one. Three girls and one boy. The girls were pretty, but it was the boy who caught his attention. There was something about him that was familiar and it wasn’t until Jensen sat down directly across from him that he figured out what it was.

The boy’s smile was bright and warm. The way he laughed with the boy sitting next to him made it seem like sunshine was radiating from him. His hair was dark and flopped into his eyes whenever he moved his head. His nose was long and pointed and there were dimples on either side of his mouth when he smiled. He was taller than almost everyone else in the room, though he was sitting down, and had moles that you could draw constellations from. He had the appearance of someone who would probably be very muscular if it weren’t for the fact he was sick and, looped over his ears and under his nose, was what Jensen had learned was called a nasal cannula. The tank it belonged to stood next to the boy.

Jensen blinked several times, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Jared Padalecki was sitting in front of him.

In a whirlwind of color, Jensen’s childhood flashed in front of him. He and Jared playing at the playground of their elementary school. He and Jared stealing cookie dough, though Jared wasn’t supposed to have any. He and Jared having sleepovers, staying up late and telling each other scary stories. Jensen sitting alone in class when Jared was hospitalized.

He still remembered the last time he saw Jared. He’d been so much younger. Jared had never come back. He wondered why. He wanted to go over to him and ask him what had happened. He’d just assumed he’d died and, while that was upsetting to him, by the time he’d come to the conclusion, it was nearly five years later and Jensen hadn’t seen Jared for long enough to let the wounds of a friendship gone badly close.

Now that friend was sitting directly in front of him and Jensen wasn’t sure what he felt.

His thoughts were interrupted by the leader of the group – the man with the golden eyes – as he clapped his hands twice and said, “Alright, everyone. Settle down. We have a new member in our group today.” He turned to Jensen, who turned bright red. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Jensen was quiet. Every part of him screamed _No_ , but he knew he was going to have to. You didn’t have a choice with these kinds of things.

“Just tell us your name, your age, and your disease,” the man said. “Then we’ll go around the circle and do the same, so you can get to know us, too.”

The kids around him groaned in frustration. That made Jensen feel slightly better. He sat up in his chair, gripped his IV pole again for support, and said, “Hi. I’m Jensen Ackles. I’m seventeen and I have myeloma.”

When Jensen spoke his name, Jared whipped his head in his direction. He looked just as startled as Jensen felt and, for a moment, the two of them locked eyes. Neither seemed sure of what to do or say. It’d been eleven years since they’d last seen each other. So much had changed in that time.

“Hello, Jensen,” the group leader said, severing their gaze. “I’m Richard or Dick.” Some of the kids suppressed giggles, but Richard ignored them. “I’m twenty-five and I’m a leukemia survivor.”

Richard turned to his left to a girl with short red hair that almost looked like a buzz cut. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Julie McNiven. I’m sixteen and I have leukemia right now.” She ran her fingers through her sparse hair nervously and glanced at the boy to her left.

“I’m Osric Chau. I’m seventeen and I have cystic fibrosis,” the boy said. He coughed and, though Jensen was sure it was genuine, it felt like he was doing it for emphasis.

“I’m Alona Tal. I’m fourteen years old and I have kidney failure,” said a blonde girl.

Then it was Jared’s turn.

He cleared his throat, rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands when he looked directly into Jensen’s eyes and said, “My name is Jared Padalecki. I’m sixteen, and I have congestive heart failure.”

Jensen didn’t really hear any of the other kids’ names after that, though there were only five more. All he could hear was how Jared’s voice had changed. All he could see was the little boy with the tube of oxygen, lying on the field with him at school. Even though he was right in front of him, even though all the differences were expected, it was shocking to think that this handsome young man was the kid he’d once been best friends with.

“Alright,” said Richard, shocking Jensen out of his thoughts. “Now that we’ve all introduced ourselves, I’ll explain what we’re doing today. Today we’re going to start talking about how our illnesses affect us and our families and talk about how that makes us feel.”

 _I was right,_ Jensen thought, _this_ is _complete bullshit_.

He didn’t care and Jensen was sure that that reason was the boy sitting in front of him.

“How about we start with you, Jensen?”

Jensen blinked. How had he gotten distracted by Jared again? In only a few seconds?

He blinked again and shifted in his seat, his fingers still clutching at his IV pole as he took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his problems with his illness and his feelings about his family in a room full of strangers, but it was looking like he had no choice. Plus, he’d told Mackenzie he would at least _try_ this out and he had a feeling that meant sharing things he didn’t want to. Trying didn’t mean just sitting here.

Swallowing, he said, “Um, well, _where_ should I start?” He laughed nervously.

“Wherever you want,” Jared said before Richard could respond. He glanced at Richard and added, “Maybe I should go first so Jensen can see how it’s done?”

Richard gestured towards Jared. “By all means!” he said, sounding overly enthusiastic.

            Jared stared directly at Jensen as he said, “Well, um, I guess my illness affects my friendships the most. I can’t-I can’t really be friends with anyone other than sick people; I’m not around anyone who isn’t sick that often and when I am it’s only for a brief period of time. Not that I don’t enjoy being friends with my sick friends, I just miss some of the friends that I’ve lost because I’m sick. Of course, my illness affects my family, too. I know my parents worry a lot because I’ve been sick my whole life and I know my sister and brother worry too. I don’t think that me being sick is fair to them because my parents have to give all of their attention to me instead of spreading it out equally between the three of us. I guess that makes me feel really guilty, even though my being sick isn’t my fault.”

When he finished, he finally broke eye contact with Jensen.

Everyone in the circle nodded in response to his speech, even Jensen did. He knew how Jared felt in more ways than he ever thought he would.

He thought back to when they were lying on that field between the two playgrounds at school together and wondered if he’d had any inkling then that he would understand his position so well now. He doubted it.

“Alright, Jensen,” Richard said. “It’s your turn.”

Jensen bit his lip. He really didn’t want to share. It was the very last thing he wanted to do, but he still took a deep breath and said, “My illness affects my friendships, too. I don’t have any friends anymore. Not really. Not even in the hospital. I mostly room alone when I’m here and I don’t talk to any of my friends outside of the hospital. I know they’ve tried to talk to me, but I just - I don’t know. I don’t want them to see me like this, I guess. I know my family is affected. Especially my little sister, Mackenzie. She’s-she’s actually the reason I’m here. She said she didn’t want to see me give up. I guess I just never thought this could happen to me. It could happen to everyone else, just not to me.”

Jensen stared at his hands while he spoke, fiddling with his IV tube. His cheeks burned red. He hated talking about himself. Especially to people he didn’t know.

“Very good, Jensen,” Richard said. “Who’d like to go next?”

The session lasted much longer than Jensen thought it would.

It ran for two hours – twice as long as he thought it would – and by the time he left he room to find Mackenzie reading where he’d left her, he was exhausted from all the emotional sharing he’d had to do.

“How was it?” she asked without looking up.

“Awful,” Jensen slumped into the seat next to her. He needed a long nap.

She bookmarked the page she was on and closed the book before looking up at him, “It’ll get better. As you get to know your peers more, you’ll get more comfortable with them and then maybe you’ll actually enjoy going.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I doubt it.”

But then he thought about how Jared was there, how he’d looked at him when he spoke, and how he hated that his illness ruined his friendships.

Maybe Mackenzie wasn’t entirely wrong after all.


	4. Three

The support group sessions were repetitive.

Mackenzie would come and take Jensen from his hospital room down to the support group room twice a week. She would wait outside, reading a book, while Jensen spent two hours talking about whatever Richard thought they needed to talk about that week. Jensen did as he was asked to do, but he spent most of his time glancing at Jared when he thought he wasn’t looking rather than listening to the other kids in the group.

By the end of the first month of support group, Jensen only vaguely knew the other kids’ names, but had memorized all of the moles on Jared’s face so well that he could connect them in his sleep.

It was also around this time that Jensen was told he was well enough to return home.

“I’ll still be able to come to support group, right?” he asked almost too quickly.

 “Of course,” the nurse told him. “Many of the group members aren’t hospitalized at the present time and they still attend the group.”

Jensen let out a sigh of relief and ignored Mackenzie, who was smirking from behind the nurse. He thanked the nurse and the minute she left, his sister said, “I _told_ you that you’d enjoy it. I _told_ you and you didn’t believe me.”

She stood beside him, looping her arm through his. She pretended it was a gesture of camaraderie, but Jensen knew she was really worried he’d get too tired walking from his room to where the support group met, so she stayed close in case he needed to lean on her. It was annoying in some ways, but Jensen didn’t stop her. If that’s how she wanted to help, he wasn’t going to stop her.

“I’m not _enjoying_ support group,” he corrected her, rolling his eyes for emphasis. “I just...have a friend there. Sort of.”

“Ooh!” she grinned. “Who is it? Is it a girl?”

Jensen felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. “No,” he said, looking at the ground in an attempt to hide it, “it’s a boy. His name is Jared.”

“Jared?” she asked. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“I knew him when I was in elementary school. You would’ve only been four at the time, so I doubt you remember him very well,” Jensen replied.

Mackenzie said nothing. She bit her lip.

“What?” He narrowed his gaze.

“It’s just...doesn’t he have a terminal illness?” she asked.

Jensen swallowed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. There was a short silence, “Does that matter?”

Mackenzie was biting her lip again. Suddenly, Jensen felt frustrated and angry. “ _What_?” His tone of voice mirrored his frustration.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be friends with someone who’s just going to, you know, _die_.”

Jensen didn’t say anything. Mackenzie was probably right, but he didn’t want to be friends with anyone else. It wasn’t that the other kids in the support group weren’t nice, it was just...none of them were Jared.

“I’ll be waiting here after,” Mackenzie said once they reached the room. She sat down in the chair closest to the door as always and, as she opened her book, added, “After, I’ll take you home.”

Jensen was so happy, he kissed her on the cheek.

Knowing that he got to go home for the first time in almost a month made the group go by that much more slowly and Jensen caught himself looking at the clock more often than not.

“So, Jensen,” Richard said, forcing him to tear his gaze from the clock face for the umpteenth time, “you no longer have your IV in. Are you going home today?”

Jensen smiled a little and nodded.

“That’s great,” Richard smiled. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost a month,” Jensen said, “but I know that’s not that long compared to some people.” He had to force himself not to look at Jared as he said this.

“No, don’t belittle your own hardships in favor of someone else’s,” Richard told him. “Just because someone else _may_ have it harder than you doesn’t mean that you don’t have it hard as well.”

Jensen nodded a little, wondering where the selfish boy that thought he had it worse than anyone else had gone. Had he been changed that much by this group already? Or was it just being with Jared and seeing other kids who were suffering, too, that had humbled him?

By the time the session was over, he was sure he’d been there far longer than two hours, but when he checked the clock, the clock’s hands hadn’t moved any further than normal. He sighed and got up, stretching his hands over his head and yawning. He rubbed the back of his neck and started towards the door, but a soft voice stopped him.

“Jensen.”

He turned. Jared was standing there, leaning on his oxygen tank, a crooked smile lighting up his pale face. He looked sicker today than Jensen could remember him having looked any other day, but he still smiled upon seeing Jared’s smiling face.

“Hey,” he said, returning so he was standing in front of him.

“I was wondering if you wanted my number,” Jared said, pulling a slip of paper out from behind his back. “Maybe-maybe we could hang out sometime, you know, outside of group. It’d be fun.”

Jensen took the paper gingerly, as though he were afraid it was going to burst into flames or crumble to dust in his hand. He looked at it for a long time, memorizing how each of the numbers looked on the torn slip of notebook paper.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Jared’s handwriting.

When he finally looked up again, he smiled and said, “I’d love to.”

Jared’s face lit up and Jensen couldn’t figure out how he ever could’ve forgotten how that smile could illuminate a room. Jared’s smile could power cities for decades. Jared pushed the handle of his oxygen tank down a bit so he could pull it along more easily and said, “Don’t forget to call me,” before he left.

Jensen stood in the group room for a little while longer before he followed him out.

“What’s that?” Mackenzie asked, when he was finally standing next to her again.

He was looking at the paper again, still studying each number, while at the same time trying to figure out why this piece of paper already felt so damn important. He blinked when Mackenzie spoke and looked up, saying, “Jared’s number.”

His sister bit her lip, smiling a little.

“What?” he asked in an accusatory tone.

“Nothing,” she grinned and stood.

Jensen rolled his eyes and said nothing else as he followed his sister to the parking garage. As they drove home, he watched the Californian palm trees zip by and let out a soft sigh. It’d be nice to be home. It’d be nice to sleep in his own bed again; the hospital beds were always so uncomfortable. It’d be nice to hang out with Jared in a couple of days once he got up the courage to actually call him.

“He said he wanted to hang out,” he finally told Mackenzie, looking over at her as she turned onto their street.

“Even though you haven’t even spoken in eleven years?” she asked.

“Why does that matter?” he retorted.

She shrugged and didn’t reply. Jensen sighed.

Sometimes his sister avoided saying what she was thinking and for anyone participating in a conversation with her, it was really fucking annoying.


	5. Four

Even though he’d told himself over and over that he was going to call Jared the minute he got home, it was now three days since Jensen had last seen him and all he’d managed to do since that time was sit in front of his phone, twirling the slip of paper with Jared’s number in between his fingers, and chew on his lip while contemplating calling him. It’d been a long time since Jensen had hung out with anyone and even longer since he’d hung out with Jared.

What would he say if his mom answered the phone? What would he do if _no_ one picked up? What if Jared had changed his mind and really _didn’t_ want to hang out with him? What if he’d only given him his number to be polite? What if he’d given him a fake number just to prank him to see if he’d actually try to call him?

When he voiced his concerns to Mackenzie one day before dinner, she rolled her eyes, “Thinking like that really isn’t going to get you anywhere. You either _are_ going to call him and hang out with him or you aren’t and you’re only going to see him during your group therapy sessions every Tuesday and Thursday. Since it’ll be awkward if you _don’t_ call him when you still have to see him in group every week, I’d just do it if I were you.”

Jensen bit his lip. “Yeah, but what if –” he began.

“Then at least you’ll know,” Mackenzie said, cutting him off. “Wouldn’t you rather know than just sit around and wonder about it?”

She did have a point, though Jensen hated to admit it.

“Tell mom I’ll be at the dinner table in ten minutes.”

Mackenzie smiled and got up, leaving his room for the kitchen.

Jensen waited until he was sure she was gone before he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and quickly dialed Jared’s number. He clutched the receiver as it began to ring and worried at his lip with his teeth.

The questions began circling in his head again, the same ones that had kept him from calling Jared for the past several days, but when someone picked up the phone mid-ring, his thoughts seemed to evaporate and for the few seconds that there was only shuffling as whoever had lifted the receiver on the other end pulled it up to their ear; he could only hear his heart pounding his chest.

“Hello?” said the voice on the other end.

Jensen let out an audible sigh of relief, his eyes closing slightly as he did so.

Jared had picked up.

“Hey,” Jensen’s voice shook. “It’s-it’s Jensen. From group.”

“Oh!” Jared replied, sounding genuinely pleased. “Hey, man! I’m glad you called!”

The pounding in Jensen’s chest dissipated a little. He’d gotten over one hurdle. Now he had to get over the other ten that seemed to be standing in his way.

“I-I was just wondering if maybe you might like to, I don’t know, come over sometime?” Jensen stammered, still worrying at his lip. “My mom makes great stroganoff and I thought that maybe sometime you might want to come over for dinner? And then we could maybe play video games after...or something?”

“Yeah!” Jared’s reply was almost instant. “Yeah, that sounds great! I’d love to come over! Let me just go ask my mom if it’s okay.”

There was some rustling, a muffled yell, more rustling, and then Jared was back on the phone, saying, “My mom said she can drive me over this weekend, is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” he assured. He didn’t know if that was true, but he highly doubted his parents would object. Jensen hadn’t hung out with anyone in years now. The fact he’d scheduled a date himself would make them ecstatic. They wouldn’t dream of forcing him to cancel, especially when he told them who it was he’d invited over.

“Awesome,” Jared said. “I’ll see you on...Friday, then?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied. “Friday. See you!”

“See you!” And then Jared hung up.

Jensen laid back in bed and stared up at his ceiling once he was off the phone, smiling like an idiot. He hadn’t felt like this since he’d asked this really pretty girl out in the ninth grade and she’d actually said yes.

Trying not to think too much about it, Jensen pushed himself up from his bed and headed into the kitchen, running his hand over his bald head. Everyone else was already sat down and eating and when he walked into the room all conversation stopped. He held in a frustrated sigh; it’d been this way ever since he’d gotten sick.

“How was your nap this afternoon, Jensen?” his mother asked, breaking the silence as he sat down and she cut her meat.

“It was good,” Jensen replied. He was still smiling. He picked up his fork and stuffed some of the beans into his mouth.

“Jensen invited Jared Padalecki over for dinner this Friday,” Mackenzie said before anyone could say anything else.

Jensen stared at her open mouthed. He’d waited until she was in the kitchen. He’d _heard_ her speaking with their mother before he picked up the phone and dialed Jared’s number, so how had she heard? It was obvious, he supposed. She’d tiptoed back to just outside his door right after he’d called him and he’d been so immersed in his conversation with Jared, he hadn’t heard her arrival. Then, when he’d been basking in the afterglow of the call, she’d hurried back into the kitchen without his noticing. He glared at her.

“Nosy,” he mumbled at the same time his mother said, “Jared Padalecki? Wasn’t that the sick boy you were friends with in elementary school?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said tentatively. “He’s in my therapy group at the hospital.” He stuffed more food into his mouth. He didn’t want to answer any more questions or have his mother react the same way Mackenzie had when he told her Jared was his friend again.

“How is he?” his mother asked. She was still cutting her meat.

“He’s- he’s doing okay, I think,” Jensen replied around a mouthful of food.

“Well, that’s good,” his mother replied. “What time is he coming over on Friday?”

“Um, probably around three in the afternoon,” Jensen said, mentally reminding himself to call Jared later and tell him. “I told him you were making stroganoff, so you have to make that when he comes over.”

“Okay,” his mother smiled.

And that was the end of conversations about Jensen’s weekend dinner plans, but Jensen didn’t stop thinking about it and he had a pleasant smile on his face for the remainder of the evening.

\- - -

As Friday approached, Jensen started getting nervous about Jared coming over. He wondered if he’d think his room was too messy or too geeky. He wondered if he wouldn’t want to play video games and wouldn’t want to watch TV and, if he did, he wouldn’t like any of the shows Jensen sometimes watched. He knew he was being irrational. He knew he was being ridiculous, but Jared’s opinion mattered to him – more than almost anything else – and he was still trying to figure out why.

Finally, three p.m. on Friday rolled around and Jensen found himself pacing in front of the door waiting for Jared. When he didn’t arrive at three on the dot, he began to panic, thinking that Jared had forgotten or that he’d decided not to show. He thought about going into his room to check his phone messages, but what if he was just running late and the minute he walked away from the door, Jared arrived? So he continued pacing until finally, fifteen minutes and more than enough worry later, he arrived.

Jensen answered the door. Jared’s parents waved to them both from the car and Jensen showed his friend inside, telling him he could leave his shoes by the door before automatically heading back towards his bedroom.

“I thought we could play video games if you wanted, until dinner,” he said shyly, opening the door to his shockingly messy room. He blushed. Why hadn’t he thought to clean it before Jared came over? Hadn’t his mom been telling him to clean it? Didn’t she also say that how his room looked would reflect on him? What if Jared thought he was lazy pig because his clothes were scattered all over the room and he never put his video games and controllers away? What if he –

“Wow,” Jared said, grinning, “your room is a _lot_ cleaner than mine.”

Jensen blinked and let out an audible sigh of relief. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jared replied, dragging his oxygen tank in behind him and sitting on the edge of Jensen’s bed. “I don’t have any of my clothes hung up and my mom even bought me this shelf to organize my video games on and I haven’t even done that yet.”

He laughed. Jensen responded with a nervous laugh of his own.

Jared looked around the room, at the posters on Jensen’s walls, the haphazard bookshelves, the video games scattered around the room. Then his eyes lit up and he bent over the bed and pulled up a game. “I love this game!” Jared said, holding it up for Jensen to see.

 _Halo 3_ was the game. Jensen grinned. “Yeah?” he said, sitting down next to Jared. “It’s my favorite! I thought the first two were okay, but this one’s great. The story is great and the gameplay is great, too, and the music is amazing! I mean, I’m shocked they spent that much money on a good soundtrack artist for just a video game.”

"Well, video games are kind of like movies that you play,” Jared said. “They get rated. There are special magazines and reviewers for them. They get a certain amount of stars. The only thing they’re missing is an awards show, but they do have conventions that are, like, the video game versions of the Sundance Film Festival and the Toronto Film Festival and stuff.”

There was a short silence during which Jensen felt incredibly stupid compared to his clearly smart friend, and then he said, “So do you want to play it?”

Jared scoffed. “Is that even a question?”

They played for longer than was probably healthy and then played some more.

Jensen had forgotten how much fun it was to play games with a friend. It was only halfway through the first game before the shyness and anxiety he constantly seemed to feel around others vanished and he was actually enjoying himself.

“Let’s play online!” Jared suggested, and when they got bored with that, Jensen said, “Let’s play against each other! First two out of three kills wins!”

They lost themselves in the virtual world for nearly three hours before, finally, Jensen’s mother called them for dinner and they stopped, still talking about their game as they headed out of Jensen’s room and into the kitchen.

“Were you boys having fun?” Jensen’s mother asked as they sat down.

Everyone else was already at the table. Jensen and Jared took the two seats next to one another on one side of it.

“Yeah,” Jensen said, grabbing a bowl of beans and spooning some onto his plate.

“Sure sounded like it,” Mackenzie mumbled, doing the same with the potatoes.

Jensen ignored her and offered the beans to Jared, who took them and served himself while Jensen put some stroganoff on both of their plates. Jared smiled nervously and said softly so only Jensen could hear, “It’s a good thing your mom makes healthy stuff.”

“Why’s that?” Jensen asked as he dug into his meal.

“I can’t really eat anything too high in fat,” Jared replied, slowly eating his own food. “It messes with my heart and makes me sicker.”

Jensen’s spoon paused for only a fraction of a second on the way to his mouth, but he had a feeling that Jared saw. While they’d been playing games in his room, he’d completely forgotten that Jared was sick. It was like the oxygen tank sitting next to his bed and the tube under Jared’s nose had vanished. It was like his own hair had grown back and everything was back to normal. Better than normal, in Jared’s case. But as Jared spoke, he was reminded, yet again, just how things were not at all what he or Jared would ever want them to be.

He let out a long, sad sigh.

The evening had just darkened.

They ate the rest of their dinner in relative silence with Jensen’s parents asking Jared questions about his family every now and then. Jared replied to each question politely, but it was clear that he didn’t want to talk, so eventually all conversation died out altogether.

Once dinner was over, the two boys walked back to Jensen’s room. They didn’t pick up their gaming controllers. Jared laid diagonally on Jensen’s bed with his head towards the foot of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his hands on his chest. Jensen lay on the floor and did the same thing, his hands held a little ways away from his sides, his fingers splayed out. For a while, they just lay there, saying nothing, each trying to come up with words that would fit inside the awkwardness that had risen between them.

Jensen wondered if this was how it would always be now. They’d be friends, but they’d sit in awkward silences, wondering what the other was thinking, not daring to bring up the elephant in the room because then they’d end up like this again. Or would they always just be like this? Silent and awkward? Never again laughing and forgetting? But wasn’t that the same question he’d just asked himself?

He sighed again.

“Jensen?” Jared’s voice was soft and tentative.

“Yeah?” Jensen asked.

“I think we need to acknowledge our illnesses,” Jared replied. “Because I don’t want it to be like this whenever we hang out. We’re in group together and I’ve been sick my whole life and you’re sick now and…I just don’t want things to be awkward just because we’re both sick.”

Jensen nodded, though Jared couldn’t see. “Yeah,” he said. “I have cancer and you have congestive heart failure. It’d be dumb if we let it ruin our relationship as well as kill us.”

“You don’t know they’ll kill us,” Jared said automatically. “Maybe you’ll go into remission and I’ll get a heart transplant and we’ll live long, boring lives.”

Jensen scoffed before he could stop himself. “My type of leukemia has a seventy percent cure rate,” he said. “When I was first diagnosed, the doctors said I wouldn’t be sick very long. Now it’s two years later and I’m still sick. Want to know why? Because I’m in the thirty percent that _isn’t_ cured. That’s why. I’m going to die, Jared. I don’t know when, but I am. If I weren’t, I’d be better by now.”

There was another silence. Finally, Jared said, “When I was born, my parents were told I wouldn’t survive the day, but I did. Then they were told I wouldn’t survive the week, but I did. Finally, they were told I wouldn’t live to be any older than fifteen, but I have. I’ve lived two years longer than I’m supposed to. I’m living off borrowed time, Jensen, and I don’t know how, but it probably means I’m going to die soon. Probably. Not definitely. I could still get strong enough for a heart transplant and live longer. I could. I _could_ think it probably won’t happen, but that’s not going to help anything. Being hopeful might, though.”

“What’s your point?” Jensen retorted.

Jared sighed. “My point is that you can chose to either be optimistic about your situation or pessimistic about it. If you’re optimistic, you’ll feel better and things will look brighter and you’ll just be a happier person. If you’re pessimistic, the world is going to look darker and you’re not going to feel good.”

“I already don’t feel good!” Jensen half-shouted. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “The problem with being optimistic is that if something bad happens, you feel that much worse than if you were expecting it.”

“But you don’t know bad things are going to happen,” Jared reminded him. “Something good could happen instead.”

“In which case, if you feel pessimistic, you’ll feel that much better,” Jensen replied.

Jared sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t think about it that way.”

“Why?” Jensen said almost cruelly. “It’s not effecting you.”

“Because you’re my friend and I don’t like you being unhappy.”

Jensen was quiet after that, feeling guilt spread through him like wildfire. He bit his lip, blinking up at the ceiling as he murmured, “Sorry.”

Jared smiled a little. “It’s okay,” he replied.

They continued to lie on their backs staring at the ceiling until Jensen’s mother called them, saying Jared’s mother had come to pick Jared up.

“We have to hang out again sometime,” Jared said as they left Jensen’s room. “There’re lots of fun things to do around here. We could go to a carnival or see hot air balloons or something next time, okay?”

“That sounds fun, yet expensive,” Jensen smiled a little. “I’m broke.”

“Yeah, but I have a feeling if you asked your parents for cash so you could go out and have some fun, they’d be more than willing to give it to you,” Jared replied, smirking a little.

Jensen’s smile widened. Jared was probably right.

He gave him an awkward hug goodbye, promised to call him again soon, and then Jared was out the door, in the car, down the street, and eventually gone.

Jensen leaned against the window, the glass almost too cool against his bald head.

He was smiling like an idiot and that was when it hit him.

He’d had never considered himself gay. He’d gone on a few dates with a few girls before he’d gotten sick. He’d even taken out a few shortly after he’d become ill. He liked girls. He liked them a lot. But the way he felt about Jared was the same way he’d felt about some of those girls.

Jensen bit his lip as he realized he was falling in love with Jared Padalecki.


	6. Five

It was another three days before Jensen saw Jared again and then it was at group.

That day they were talking about their biggest fears. Jensen tried to stay out of the conversation as much as possible, preferring to watch the clock instead. Jared had pulled him aside before the beginning of class and started to ask him if he wanted to hang out again before Richard told them chatter time was over and group time was now.

However, as per usual, getting out of talking about his feelings wasn’t that easy.

“Today we’re going to go around the circle and each talk about something we fear,” Richard said. “Let’s start with you, Osric.”

Jensen wasn’t listening. He was already trying to come up with something he’d be comfortable sharing with a group of strangers, but the only thing that came to mind was death and that sounded like a pretty ridiculous thing to say to a group of kids who were all dying. He bit his lip and tried to think of something within that, but the only thing he came up with was, yet again, worrying about how his family was going to feel once he was gone and he didn’t like talking about his family to strangers.

“Jared, what do you fear?”

Richard’s voice pulled Jensen out of his thoughts. He looked up. Jared still sat across from him. It was only ever Jared’s comments that Jensen was interested in. He watched his friend shift in his seat, sitting up a little straighter, before he began to speak.

“I fear dying before I’ve done anything great,” he said without any hesitation.

“And why is that?” Richard asked. Jensen thought Richard was a little nosy.

“All my life I’ve been told that I’m not going to live to be old enough to be able to do anything exciting,” Jared replied. “You always hear these stories about kids who are sick with terminal illnesses touching the lives of people everywhere and I’ve lived longer than the doctors ever expected me to and I still haven’t done anything extraordinary. I don’t want to die until something amazing has happened in my life. I don’t want to die until I know I’ll be remembered forever.” There was a short pause, then Jared let out a sad laugh and added, “Maybe that’s a little vain, but I don’t just want to be remembered as that boy with the heart condition. I want to be more than that. I want to be more than the way I died.”

The room was silent after that. No one knew what to say. There were still ten minutes left of group and only three people to share before Jensen, but Richard seemed struck dumb by Jared’s words as did the rest of the room.

Finally the class was over and everyone started slowly getting up, Richard promising they’d finish their discussion on Thursday. Jensen immediately went over to Jared and said, “So you said you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

Jared seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. There was a sadness in his eyes that Jensen hadn’t seen before, a sadness that broke his heart. He wanted to reach into his heart and erase that pain. He was too young to look that unhappy. As quickly as it had come, it vanished. Jared blinked and looked up at him, a smile moving across his lips as he said, “Yeah! Remember when I was talking about the hot air balloons and carnivals? Well, we’re in luck! Tomorrow there’s a hot air balloon contest of some sort and next week there’s a carnival coming into town.”

“And we’re going to go to both?” Jensen asked, already forgetting Jared’s sadness and beginning to smile himself.

“Yeah,” Jared said. “Well, only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” Jensen grinned.

Jared grinned back. “Great! We’ll pick you up tomorrow around noon, okay?”

“Okay,” Jensen said, already counting how many hours he’d have to wait.

By the time he exited the therapy room and found Mackenzie, he’d figured it out.

Twenty-one hours. In twenty-one hours, he’d get to see Jared again.

He grinned again. He was so happy, he didn’t notice Mackenzie smiling right back at him, her smile far more knowing than he would’ve liked it to be.

\- - -

Ever since Jensen had realized that he was in love with Jared, he’d been doing everything he could to get Jared to notice him, though that wasn’t exactly a problem since they were best friends now and hanging out almost constantly. Still, he wanted to impress him, wanted him to see that he was looking nice for him, even though he didn’t know if Jared was gay or anything. In his mind, it didn’t hurt to try. Especially when who knew how much longer he was going to live.

The day he was supposed to go to the hot air balloon contest – or the Flying Rainbow Competition, as it was called – he got up several hours earlier than he needed to, took a shower, and spent another hour planning his outfit. In the end, he settled on a nice t-shirt, some nice shorts, and a nice pair of sneakers. What he’d wanted to wear was a nice button down shirt, a pair of nice pants, and some nice shoes, but Mackenzie told him he both looked way too dressed up and that it was too hot outside to wear that much clothing.

“You look fine,” she reassured him as Jensen turned in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time. “Gosh, you remind me of a girl before her first prom.”

Jensen could hardly hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. “It’s not a crime to want to look nice,” he retorted, smoothing down his shirt, wishing he had time to iron it.

“Yeah, but I don’t think Jared is going to care how you dress,” she said. “He probably isn’t going to be dressed any different than you are. In fact, if you _did_ wear what you were originally planning to, he’d probably wonder what you were up to.”

 “I’m not up to anything,” he said too quickly.

“Of course not,” she replied cheerily, “but I’m just saying that he’d think you were.”

Once he was convinced he looked as nice as he was going to, Jensen went to play video games in the living room while he waited for Jared to arrive, but his character kept dying as he kept glancing out the window every two minutes. Finally, he shut off his Xbox and turned on the TV instead. However, he still couldn’t keep his eyes off the driveway. He didn’t even notice when Mackenzie commandeered the TV and turned it from _Fight Club_ to Mythbusters.

“He’s not due until noon,” she reminded him, laughing at some joke one of the people on the screen had made. “And it’s only eleven. You might as well watch Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman blow stuff up with me until then.”

Jensen let out a long sigh. “Yeah,” he said and turned back to the TV.

What felt like far longer than an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Jensen jumped up from the couch so fast, he stumbled and was panting when he reached the door. As he unlocked it, he grumbled. Having cancer meant getting exhausted over things that should not exhaust you.

When Jensen finally swung the door open, Jared was standing there leaning on his oxygen tank, smiling brightly. “Hey!” he said as Jensen opened the screen door. “You ready?”

Jared’s smile was infectious and Jensen forgot all about his momentary discomfort. “Yeah!” he blurted, turning to his sister and saying, “Tell Mom I said bye, Kenzie, okay?”

Mackenzie only waved, not taking her eyes off the screen, but Jensen saw her smirk.

“That was my sister,” he explained as they walked to the car.

“Yeah, I know,” Jared replied. “I met her when I came over for dinner, remember?”

“Oh,” Jensen blushed and felt incredibly stupid. “Yeah.”

Jared let out a small laugh. “It’s okay. Today you can meet my family! Or my mom, anyway. Everyone else decided to stay home.”

The car Jensen was led to was much nicer than the car Jensen’s parents owned. This one was big and spacious, the interior comfortably cool from the air-conditioning coming out of the vents in the doors. Jensen sat on the right behind the passenger seat and Jared sat next to him on the left, his oxygen tank between them. The woman in the driver’s seat in front of Jared was pleasantly plump with medium length dirty-blonde hair and a kind face.

“Jensen!” she squealed as he closed the door and buckled himself in. “We haven’t seen you in such a long time! I was so glad that Jared got to reconnect with you, but so sorry that it was at his therapy group. It’s too bad it couldn’t have been in school.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what else to say. If he weren’t sick, he didn’t think he’d be here right now. He’d probably be out with his other friends, playing football in the nearby park or going to the mall or playing video games at one of their houses.

 “Well, that’s all I’ll say on that matter,” Mrs. Padalecki said. “Today we’re going to have fun and focus on positive things!”

“That’s my mom’s big philosophy,” Jared said softly, but loud enough so his mother could hear. “Be positive.”

“Just like you,” Jensen said before he could stop himself, but he was smiling.

Jared smiled back. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You must get it from her,” Jensen added.

Jared’s smile widened.

The drive to the field where the contest was took a lot shorter than Jensen had thought it was going to, though he suspected this was because he’d spent most of his time talking and laughing with Jared and his mother. He’d brought a baseball cap to put on his bald head, both so it wouldn’t get burned and so he wouldn’t get stared at as much. When they finally parked, he put it on as he got out of the car.

“As your friend, I think you should know that you look ridiculous in that hat,” Jared told him, giving him a wry smile.

“People are less likely to stare at a kid with a baseball cap than a kid with a bald head,” he told him. “Also, I’m less likely to get burned.”

“Fair enough,” Jared said, “but I still think people are going to stare. Your baldness is still pretty visible. Plus you have me with you, so getting stared at is going to be pretty much unavoidable.”

Jensen huffed. “You’re not helping.”

Jared shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been stared at my whole life. At this point, I’m kind of used to it.” He smiled at Jensen.

It took him a minute, but Jensen did smile back.

The field where the contest was taking place was huge and covered in at least forty or fifty different teams of hot air balloon fliers. The balloons weren’t blown up yet, so all anyone could see for about two or three miles were the teams, those who’d come to watch them, the baskets of each individual balloon, and the concession stands in between. Near the parking lot was a cleared off space where some people were already sitting on blankets.

“I’ll go get us a spot,” Mrs. Padalecki said as they stepped from the gravel of the parking lot onto the grass. “You two go look around until the balloons take off.”

She gave Jared some money to buy them both food before leaving with a wave.

“Have you ever been to one of these before?” Jared asked as they walked in between the balloons and their teams.

Jensen was watching the people working on the balloons so closely that he didn’t register Jared’s question for a minute. Finally, he blinked and looked away from the people to shake his head and say, “I never even knew they do stuff like this around here.”

“Really?” Jared said, sounding honestly shocked. “I go to them every spring. Usually with my whole family. It’s kind of a tradition, but, like I said before, they didn’t want to come, which is okay because there’s several more throughout the spring and summer. Anyway, going with just my mom today would’ve felt weird, so that’s why I asked you.”

“Why would it be weird going with your mom?” Jensen asked, Jared having pulled his attention away from the people working on the balloons completely.

Jared bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable. Jensen was about to tell him he didn’t have to talk about it if he didn’t want to when Jared starting speaking.

“My disease is terminal,” he began, startling Jensen with the word that every sick teenager dreaded hearing. “I’ve known that ever since I could understand what that word means and the reason I don’t like spending alone time with my mom is because she’s always so _sad_ when it’s just us. I just want her to be _happy_ and revel in the time we have left rather than dwell on the time we’re going to lose.”

Jensen looked away, suddenly reminded of Mackenzie. With them, it was switched around. Jensen only wanted to think about his probable impending doom and she wanted him to enjoy whatever life he had. He swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, suddenly feeling guilty for how he’d treated his sister.

“But we’re not going to talk about that today,” Jared said, his face breaking out into a smile made of sunshine. “Today we’re going to have fun. Starting with getting some food that’s really bad for us and we probably shouldn’t be having to begin with.”

“Will it be okay for you to eat that food?” Jensen asked as they stopped in front of one of the concession stands, remembering what he’d told him when he’d come over for dinner. “Will your mom be okay with it?”

Jared shrugged one shoulder. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and a hot dog once every blue moon isn’t going to kill me.”

But when they reached the front of the line to the hotdog stand, Jared ordered not only hot dogs, but chili cheese fries, funnel cakes, corn on the cob, and two diet Cokes. Jensen was feeling nervous, wondering how that many calories _wouldn’t_ kill his friend, until he saw the look on the face of the man minding the stand. Shock was the only way you could describe his expression as a boy who looked sicker than anyone he’d ever seen before in his life ordered enough heart-attack-inducing food to make _him_ feel ill. Jensen had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep himself from laughing.

Once they got their food, they thanked the man before hurrying off, each of them trying to balance three paper plates as well as a drink in their arms while they continued walking between the balloon teams. Jensen was giggling like an idiot around his fries and funnel cake, stuffing both of them greedily into his mouth. He didn’t have to watch his diet as closely as Jared did, but his mother had stopped giving him very much of anything too high in fat once he’d gotten sick. Having this much greasy, fatty food in front of him at one time was a godsend.

“Let’s talk to one of the teams,” Jared said, polishing off his fries and throwing the paper plate into one of the trash cans that were set up near each team.

“Why?” Jensen asked before he could stop himself. He’d finished both his friends and his funnel cake and was now working on his hot dog.

“So we can learn about what they’re doing. Why else?” Jared replied, only just now starting on his own fries.

Now _Jensen_ felt uncomfortable. He picked at the edge of the paper plate his hot dog was sitting on. “I don’t know,” he said.

Jared sighed, “You’re really antisocial, Jen, you know that?”

Jensen looked up, smiling, though feeling confused as he heard the nickname. “Jen?” he asked, only barely holding back a laugh. “Isn’t that a girl nickname?”

“Says who?” Jared replied, smirking right back. “People call me Jay. That sounds like a girl name, too.”

Jensen shrugged and stuffed the last of his hot dog in his mouth. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

“C’mon,” Jared said, another bright smile gracing his lips. He grabbed Jensen’s arm and pulled him towards the nearest team with a surprising amount of strength for a sick boy.

Jensen was still apprehensive, but Jared seemed to be having fun, so he let himself enjoy himself as well.

This team had their balloon halfway blown up and three of the six people on the team were walking inside of the balloon touching the material, looking like they were checking for something. Jensen assumed tears, but he wasn’t sure, so he just watched. The pattern on this balloon was a green leafy pattern, making the balloon coupled with the basket look almost like a tree. Though he hadn’t seen the other balloons, Jensen knew this one was his favorite.

“Hi!” Jared called out as they approached. “We came to see what you’re doing.”

An older man, who was standing near two other members working on some sort of metal contraption, turned around at the sound of Jared’s voice and smiled instantly. “Hello boys,” the man said with a thick English accent. He stuck out his hand and Jared shook it as the man added, “I’m Mark. The lads behind me are Jim, Jeff, Rob, Tim, and our lady, my niece, Rachel. We’re called the Treehouse Team.”

The men each nodded in the direction of the two boys at the mention of their names and the girl, who Jensen had not noticed until Mark said she was a girl, waved. She had dark brown hair, held back by a clip, and a bright smile. They all wore one-piece jumpsuits that matched the colors of their balloon.

“What might your names be?” Mark asked.

“I’m Jared and this is Jensen,” Jared said.

“Is your friend going to say hello?” Mark looked from Jared to Jensen.

Jensen swallowed and inched closer to Jared, suddenly feeling shy beyond all belief.

“He’s kind of shy,” Jared said, moving closer to Jensen so they were only a couple inches apart. “He spends most of his time alone, but I’ve been telling him he should get out into the world more and meet more people. Who knows? One day all of the cool people might be gone and he won’t have gotten to meet any of them except himself.”

Jared had, of course, told him no such thing, but he was saying it now and Jensen knew that he meant every word.

“Your friend is right,” Mark said. “There aren’t very many interesting people in the world and, if the world keeps spinning the way it is now, there won’t be any one day. You should go out and meet them while you can.”

Jensen gave a small smile. “I’ll try to do that.”

They spent the next hour with the Treehouse Team, each of the men and Rachel, too, showing them something new and different, each of them teaching them something they’d never known about hot air balloons before. They only parted when an announcement called out over the speakers raised up on large wooden poles Jensen hadn’t noticed before informed them that the balloons would be taking off in thirty minutes and all guests should go to their seating areas. Jensen and Jared waved goodbye to the group and went to go find Jared’s mother among the other people already sitting on their blankets.

Some of the balloons were completely blown up by the time they found her, eating a small pizza. She’d even saved two pieces for them. As Jensen took his piece, he looked at the balloons; all of them were different and beautiful in their own way. As more of them rose to their full size, he found he’d been right.

The one belonging to the Treehouse Team was his favorite.

“Where were you?” she asked as they both ate their pizza, pretending they hadn’t just eaten more than they were probably supposed to.

“We were talking with one of the teams,” Jared replied, eating his pizza slowly.

“Oh? Which one?”

“The Treehouse Team,” Jared said. “They were really nice. I think the leader’s niece likes Jensen.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so,” he said, trying hard not to think about how the girl had been standing too close to him, trying even harder not to think about how if he could have his pick of anyone, it would be the boy sitting next to him. “You’re just making things up.”

Jared shook his head. “She was into you, dude,” he said and was that jealousy Jensen heard in his friend’s voice? Or was he just hoping that that’s what it was?

A voice came over the loudspeakers and a voice rang through them saying, “Welcome to the thirty-fourth Annual Creative Balloon Contest!”

The crowd around them cheered, including Jared and his mother.

“Thank you for coming! As always, this contest would not be possible without its supporters! And, of course, thank you to the teams for participating! This would most definitely be impossible without you! The best of luck to you all!”

The commentator went on to explain the rules of the contest before finishing with, “On the count of three, you may release your balloons into the air!”

By this time, all of the teams were in their baskets and the balloons were tethered to the ground by ropes, each hovering a couple yards above the ground, but once the commentator and the crowd around them counted down to zero, the teams quickly untied the ropes. The crowd cheered again as all of the balloons were released into the air, waving to the teams as they floated up into the sky.

Jensen watched them in awe. The sun setting behind them made the colors on each of the balloons stand out that much more and, even though there were so many, he was still able to pick out the Treehouse Team and their balloon. They were still waving to everyone on the ground below, though they all had to be shrinking to the size of ants.

 “I want to go up in one of those one day,” Jensen heard Jared say wistfully next to him.

He turned to look at him. The look on Jared’s face was utter joy and pure sadness all mixed into one and it broke Jensen’s heart. He wanted to take Jared’s hand, reassure him, tell him that he would, but, for the first time since he’d known him, he saw something different, something that he was used to seeing on himself, but not used to seeing on Jared.

Hopelessness.

His heart broke a little more.


	7. Six

It was surprisingly soon after the hot air balloon contest that Jensen saw Jared again.

He called him the morning after the contest and said, “Do you still want to go to that carnival next week?”

Jensen was barely awake when he got the call, but at the thought of spending more time with Jared, he perked up instantly, “Yeah, of course!”

“Awesome!” Jared said. “See you then!”

And then he hung up.

The next week went by so slowly, Jensen was sure he was going to be a hundred years old by the time the carnival came around, which was why when he woke up on the day he was supposed to go to the carnival with Jared, he could hardly believe he was actually going to be allowed to do something other than mope around the house or sit in therapy for two hours.

“Carnivals can be dangerous,” his mother said for the umpteenth time that evening as Jensen waited for Jared in the living room after a day that felt slower than all of the rest of the week. “You be sure to be careful while you’re there and stay close to Jared and his family.”

“I know, Mom,” was all Jensen said in response, his eyes glued to the TV.

His mother sighed. “I’m just worried about you,” she said before going silent.

When Jensen opened the door ten minutes later, his friend appeared before him just as he had the day they went to the hot air balloon contest: leaning on his oxygen tank and smiling, his parents’ car in the background.

“My whole family is with us today,” he said as Jensen yelled goodbye to his mother and closed his front door behind him. “You can meet my brother, Jeff, and my sister, Megan.”

“Is there enough room in the car for all of us?” Jensen asked.

“We brought our bigger car,” Jared replied.

 And when Jensen looked at the car again, he saw that it was different and, as Jared had said, much bigger.

Getting in the car, Jensen sat in one of the seats in the middle next to Jared and glanced over his shoulder briefly to see a fifteen year old girl and a nineteen year old boy. Megan and Jeff. Megan was smiling brightly whereas Jeff looked like he didn’t want to be there. Jensen thought about his own brother, Josh, and wondered what he was doing in college.

“Nice to see you again, Jensen!” Jared’s mother said from the passenger seat. “This is my husband.”

A bald man smiled and Jensen in the rearview mirror and immediately said, “We have the same hairstyle!”

Jensen smiled, running a hand over his bald head automatically.

“Nice to see you, son,” the man said before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. His wife turned on the radio and Jared smiled at Jensen, who could never stop himself from smiling right back.

The drive to the carnival was fairly short. When they got out of the car, they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The sun was setting and Jensen couldn’t help remembering his mother telling him that carnivals were dangerous. He wondered what it would be like once it got dark.

“Alright,” Mrs. Padalecki said, “Jared, you and Jensen can go off and do whatever you want as long as you meet us at the hot dog stand by ten. The same goes for you and Megan, Jeff, and don’t you dare think about leaving your little sister.”

Jeff groaned and mumbled, “I didn’t even want to come,” but stalked off with her in tow anyway.

“Is your brother always like that?” Jensen whispered as Mr. and Mrs. Padalecki paid for their tickets before they entered the carnival.

“Pretty much,” Jared replied, waving to his parents as they headed towards a snow cone stand. After they’d stuffed themselves at the hot air balloon contest, they seemed to be in silent mutual agreement that they couldn’t do that this time. “He’s frustrated that he’s an adult now. He wants to be able to do everything an adult can without having any of the responsibilities that come with it.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Jensen said, ordering a blue snow cone for himself and a red one for Jared. “Sounds like something everyone goes through once they turn eighteen.”

Jared sucked on the top of his snow cone as they walked away towards the prize stands. “Probably,” he said. “I bet I’ll be like that if I turn eighteen.”

Jensen distinctly noticed how he said ‘if’ rather than ‘when’, but he made no comment.

They passed a stand where if you broke three Coke bottles with a golf ball, you could win a prize. Jensen watched a small boy break two before missing the third one and then paying for a second chance to win himself a model airplane or a stuffed animal. Jensen looked at the stuffed animals and saw a large golden retriever.

Next to him Jared sighed wistfully. “I love dogs,” he said. “I know it’s stupid for a seventeen-year-old boy to want a stuffed animal, but I really want that retriever.”

That settled it.

Jensen handed his snow cone to Jared and fished two of the thirty dollars his mother had given him out of his pocket. “I’ll get it for you,” he said.

Jared blushed. “You really don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, then grinned. “I have really good aim.”

“Two dollars to try and win one of the grand prizes,” the man standing behind the counter said, gesturing dramatically to the large stuffed animals behind him. “Try and break three of these bottles with five golf balls.”

Jensen put the money on the table and Jared stood by, biting at his lip and looking generally nervous. As Jensen got his golf balls, he came closer to him and said, “C’mon, Jen, these things are always a scam and I don’t want you to throw your money away just to get some stupid stuffed animal.”

“Jay, I promised you I would get you that dumb dog and I’m going to do it,” Jensen replied, lifting the first golf ball, shocking himself by using Jared’s nickname. He aimed carefully before lobbing it at the first Coke bottle. It shattered on impact.

The man looked impressed.

“That’s one,” he said.

Jensen threw the second golf ball. It missed by an inch.

The man smirked as he said, “That’s two.”

Jensen took a deep breath before he threw the third golf ball and it shattered the Coke bottle so hard, shards of the glass hit the protective plastic that was near the prizes where the man running the thing stood. He jumped and Jensen couldn’t stop himself from smirking.

“That’s three,” the man said, looking frustrated now.

Picking up one of the two remaining golf balls, Jensen aimed carefully at the last bottle and shocked himself when he hit it on the first try, shattering it completely.

“That’s four out of five,” Jensen said smugly, smiling at Jared as he handed the remaining golf ball back to the man.

“Which prize would you like?” the man stammered, taking the golf ball. Clearly, not many people won at his game.

“The golden retriever,” Jensen said. “It’s for my friend.”

The man got the golden retriever down from where it was hanging and handed it to Jensen, who in turn handed it to Jared. Jared squished the giant stuffed animal in his arms, handing both of the snow cones to Jensen before he did so.

“Thank you,” he said as they walked away from the stand. Jared had his snow cone back. He held it in one hand and his new stuffed animal in the other. “I have to be honest, when you missed the second one, I thought you were going to miss the other one, too. I don’t think even the guy there was expecting you to win.”

Jensen laughed, sucking up the dregs of his snowcone. “I _know_ he wasn’t,” he told Jared. “He looked like someone had cheated _him_ when I won. I bet he was that kid in school that stole other kids’ lunch money.”

“People don’t actually do that anymore, Jen,” Jared said, rolling his eyes.

They were quiet for a little while after that, walking through the carnival. Night had completely fallen upon them now. The lights from the rides, concession stands, and prize games lit their way. Jensen looked over the concession stands and prize game stands to the rides beyond. They didn’t have much of a choice in terms of them. Jared’s heart couldn’t handle rollercoasters or anything that would make it beat too fast or get his adrenaline going, but there were a few they could go on. The one that caught his eye was the Ferris wheel.

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel,” he said, still staring at it.

“What?” Jared asked, slurping up the last of his snowcone.

“The Ferris wheel,” Jensen said, turning to him. “Wanna go?”

Jared bit his lip. “I don’t know. I’m kind of afraid of heights.”

“Oh c’mon,” Jensen said. “I won’t let you fall.”

He pulled them over to the ride. The line wasn’t very long. Jared said nothing the whole time. Jensen was guessing it was from nerves, but when they got to the front, he noticed he was worrying at his lip again.

“You going to be okay on this ride, son?” the man helping patrons into the small cars asked. He was staring pointedly at the oxygen tank Jared was dragging behind him.

Jared smiled. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

“That toy won’t fit on the ride,” the man said as they started towards their car.

“Sure, it will,” Jensen said. “He can sit between us.”

“If you say so,” the man said.

They got on, placing the golden retriever between the two of them. Jared balanced his oxygen tank between his knees, his feet resting on the footrest there. The oxygen tank rested on top of them. Jensen got in next to him and smiled at him. “This will be fun,” he reassured him. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

But Jared gave him a strange look then. It was one that seemed to say, _something bad already has._

Jensen swallowed but didn’t comment on it.

The car lifted into the air and Jared sucked in a breath as they ascended slowly. They stopped after only a couple of feet so another group of two could get in. Jensen wanted to reach over and take Jared’s hand, but he wasn’t sure how he would feel about that. However, when they started moving again, only a couple more feet again so another group could get in, he decided to hell with it and laced their fingers together.

Jared didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. In fact, he seemed to welcome the gesture, squeezing Jensen’s hand so tight he was certain his friend was going to cut off his circulation.

“Careful,” he said. “I need those.”

Jared gave a nervous smile. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve never been on one of these before.”

“You’ve never been on a Ferris wheel?” Jensen asked.

Jared shook his head.

“It’s fun once you get used to it,” he said. “I promise.”

Still, the smile Jared gave him was wry. “I’m afraid of heights, Jensen.”

Jensen felt guilty as they started to ascend once more. When Jared told him he was afraid of heights, he shouldn’t have suggested they go on a ride based on heights. He was just about to apologize when they reached the top and he heard Jared gasp. At first, he thought it was out of fear, but then he heard him say softly, “Wow,” and, feeling puzzled, he looked over at him.

The look on Jared’s face was one of pure awe. He was looking down at the carnival spread out below them, a beautiful collection of dancing lights in the darkness, and, as Jensen looked at them as well, he could see exactly what made Jared forget his fear.

Jensen turned to look at Jared again. The light from the scene below shone beautifully on his face, lighting up his eyes that glowed green and brown and sometimes even blue. In the light of the carnival below, he couldn’t tell what color they were. Maybe a mixture of all three; it was beautiful. Everything about this night was beautiful and that was what made him smile more than anything else.

“What?” Jared asked, a light pink blush coloring his cheeks, his smile turning shy.

“You look beautiful,” Jensen said and, before he could stop himself, he placed his hand on Jared’s cheek and closed the distance between them, kissing him gently on the lips. He expected Jared to shove him back, to tell him to stop, but to his utter surprise, Jared kissed him back.

And then he began to cry.

At first it was just a few tears that wet Jensen’s cheek, but they were enough to make him pull back. “Jay,” he said startled, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Jared shook his head, his silent tears turning into sobs that shook his thin body. Jensen placed tentative hands on his shoulders, wondering what he should do, but after a moment, Jared managed to gasp out, “Just -just hold me.”

Jensen did as he asked, taking him in his arms, letting him clutch at his shirt, letting his tears soak through to his skin, wondering all the while what had caused this.

By the time the ride was over, it was time to leave and Jared had recomposed himself. In fact, just by looking at him, you couldn’t tell that he’d been crying in Jensen’s arms just a few minutes previously.

They met Jared’s family where they’d agreed to and then headed home.

Jared walked with Jensen up to his front door. They’d been quiet the entire ride there, finding reasons ever since they got off the Ferris wheel to touch one another. Jensen had a feeling that Jared’s siblings knew what was going on, especially since Megan seemed to giggle every time that the two of them touched.

“I don’t know if you could give me a goodnight kiss with your family right there,” Jensen said as he opened his front door.

Jared glanced back towards them. “I don’t think they’d mind,” he said. “They know I’m pansexual.”

Without preamble, Jensen kissed him again, much harder than he meant to.

Jared was blushing when he pulled away. “Well, now they’ll know for sure.”

Jensen let out a soft laugh and waved goodbye.

He went inside, dropped down onto his bed and closed his eyes, smiling blissfully, wondering how he could’ve gotten so lucky. He had a boyfriend whose name was Jared Padalecki, and he was the luckiest boy on earth.


	8. Seven

It was only shortly after Jensen started calling Jared his boyfriend in his mind that he realized he was going to have to tell his parents that he was with Jared and not as straight as he’d thought he was. He was sure Mackenzie would be alright with it. After all, the more he thought about it, the more he seemed to realize she’d known his feelings for his friend from the beginning. Hisparents and his older brother were another story entirely. He didn’t know how they would react. Sexuality had never been a topic of conversation in the Ackles household. No one was gay, so no one seemed to feel the need to bring it up.

But that was obviously not the case.

Just like before he’d first called Jared, he paced his room, running his hands over his bald head, sitting down on his bed whenever he exhausted himself, before getting too antsy and getting up to pace again. Mackenzie was with him, trying to soothe him, but calling a friend was one thing. Telling your parents that you were now dating that friend was something else entirely.

“They’ll accept you just the way you are, Jensen,” Mackenzie said for the umpteenth time. “They have to. If they really do love you, then they’ll understand how much you love Jared and their opinion towards you won’t change at all.”

“Yeah, but _what if_ it does?” he asked, also for the umpteenth time.

Mackenzie bit her lip, giving him the same answer. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” he said, slumping on the bed again.

Mackenzie put her hand on his back, rubbing it in circles. “Look,” she said gently, “if they don’t accept you, then…then…” She trailed off and sighed heavily. She didn’t know what to do. She was younger than him by two years, but she was smarter than him by quite a bit more than that. If she didn’t know what to do, who in the world did?

“They can’t kick me out,” he said. “They could get arrested for kicking me out since I’m so sick, so I guess that’s a good thing, but I’m not sure I’d _want_ to live here if all they’re going to do is turn up their nose at me or forbid me to see Jared or any of that kind of stuff.”

 “I really don’t think any of that is going to happen, Jensen,” Mackenzie replied.

“Yeah, you _think_ , but you don’t _know_ ,” he retorted.

“Of course I only think,” she said, getting frustrated. “No one can see the future, but Mom and Dad are accepting and they love you a lot, so I don’t see any reason for them to reject you just because you happen to have a different sexuality than them. Besides, the world is changing. If this were twenty years ago or even ten or five years ago, I’d be worried. But things are different than they were back then and people know more about this kind of stuff. Mom and Dad are educated and they’ll make the right choice.”

“It’s not a matter of making a right, choice, Kenzie,” he said, sounding a little angry now. “It’s about whether or not you’re a decent human being.”

Dinner that night was a quiet affair, though Jensen wasn’t sure it was quiet because of what he had to tell everyone or if it was quiet because no one really wanted to be the first to speak. Gripping his napkin under the table – and tearing it to pieces as he did so – Jensen threw back his shoulders, raised his head high, and cleared his throat.

Everyone looked at him.

“I-I just wanted to tell you all that-that Jared Padalecki and I are dating now and if you have any problems with it that’s-that’s too bad because I love him and…yeah…” he trailed off, his eyes darting from the faces of his family to the mangled napkin in his lap. If his family was going to reject him, he didn’t want to be looking at them to see it.

“That’s it?”

The voice belonged to his father.

Jensen risked a look up.

“That’s all you wanted to tell us?” his father reiterated. He’d already gone back to eating his dinner.

“Y-yeah,” he mumbled, unsure of what to make of this.

“Well, shit son,” he said, laughing slightly. “Your mother and sister and I have always thought were into boys. This isn’t anything we didn’t expect to hear eventually.”

A weight felt as though it had been lifted off of Jensen’s chest as his family, gathered around the table, began to laugh. He’d prepared himself to expect the opposite of this: his father screaming at him, his mother agreeing with him, though trying to keep him from hitting their sick son, and Mackenzie in the background, crying and helpless.

Never had he been so glad to be proven so wrong.

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing as well.


	9. Eight

A week after Jensen came out to his family, he was shaken awake by his mother far too early in the morning, though the sun was already up, filtering through his curtains and making patterns through the slats on the ground below his mattress.

“Jensen, you have to get up,” she said softly in his ear, crossing the room and pushing open the blinds.

He did little more than groan, throw a pillow over his face, and pray she would leave the room. Why did he have to get up so early? Why should he?

“Jensen, you have a PET scan today.”

The exhaustion seemed to evaporate out of his body momentarily to make room for a tidal wave of anxiety. He sat up in bed and mumbled that he’d meet her in the kitchen while he yawned and stretched and tried to convince himself that getting a PET scan was something worth staying awake for, though all facts and thoughts of past experiences pointed to the opposite: he had to get up early, he would have to go to the hospital, he’d have to wear a hospital gown, he’d have to be put in a claustrophobic space, and he wouldn’t be able to take a nap when he got home because he’d already agreed to go sleepover at Jared’s house.

He sighed heavily.

Today was going to be a long day.

Though it was childish and wouldn’t change anything, Jensen took his time getting ready. He took a shower, he got dressed so slowly he could almost see the grass growing outside his window, and he shuffled down the hall as though he were a ninety-year-old woman. By the time he reached the kitchen and his waiting mother, he’d managed to kill almost two hours, and the minute he was within reach, his mother grabbed him and dragged him out the door, saying, “I don’t know why you have to do this. You’re not being hospitalized. They’re just making sure your cancer hasn’t spread.”

Jensen knew better. He’d gone into the hospital thinking he was going to come out and then they’d found something in the scan and told him he had to stay for a week and then another week and then they scanned him again and it was another week. There was no guarantee that he was going to be leaving this hospital today.

Because he’d been in the hospital so much in the last two years, Jensen had the hallways and directions to every room memorized. Still, he let his mother lead the way to the PET scan room and let her talk to the doctor before they were led into a smaller waiting area where Jensen was told to change from his street clothes into the hospital gown provided. He went behind a curtain in the small waiting room they were given and changed quickly, before sitting down on the seat next to his mother. He began fiddling with his fingers.

These always got him nervous.

There were so many ‘what ifs’ that surrounded him whenever he was scanned. What if his cancer had spread? How were they going to treat it if it had? What would his survival rate be now? What if he no longer _had_ a survival rate? What would they do then?

A part of him knew that worrying about it wasn’t going to make the outcome any more or less good or bad. He had no control over anything that was happening inside his body. He just had to try and make the best of whatever he was told. If he were told he was going to die, after all this time, he didn’t think he would be entirely surprised.

He knew his mother was worried that was what the doctors were going to tell them when they came back tomorrow for the results, so he leaned his head on her shoulder, took her hand and said, “It’s okay, Mom. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She didn’t say anything and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

He’d long ago learned his mother dealt with her pain quietly. It only made him more nervous. If his mother was afraid that something was going to happen, then he was, by default, already afraid as well. By the time the nurse returned to escort him and his mother to the room where the scan would take place, he’d already half convinced himself the results were going to point towards what he’d suspected all along: an early grave.

“Please follow me,” the nurse said brightly, either oblivious to their concern or ignoring it entirely. Jensen thought the latter was more likely. She probably saw nervous families all the time and it was her job to console and reassure them by being positive.

The PET scan room was white with a large machine shaped like a tube in the center. There was a window covering most of the wall to the right of the door and that was where they were led first. They had to inject the tracer fluid into his veins and wait an hour for it to get through his body before they could start the scan. Jensen played games on his phone while he waited. Finally, the nurse took the IV out of his arm, quickly bandaged it, and led him to the room where the scanner was.

“I’m sure you’ve done this before,” she said as Jensen hopped up onto the tray where he would lie, “but just a reminder that it’ll take thirty minutes for the scan to be complete. It’s alright if you listen to some music while we do the scan, but you can’t move very much or the scan won’t come out right.”

“I know,” Jensen said, pulling his iPod out of his pocket.

“You haven’t eaten for the last four to six hours, right?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Alright, please lay down.”

He did as she asked, quickly putting in his earbuds as he did so. The nurse left and he stared up at the ceiling.

So this was it. He was going to get the results from this scan – which would be bad, no doubt – and then he’d be given a timeline of how much longer he had left and then he’d die. He didn’t know why he was so convinced this was how it was going to go, but it seemed about right. He’d been fighting this supposedly curable form of this incurable disease for two years longer than they’d thought he was going to. He’d been feeling better recently, but didn’t that always happen before the end?

Then the table moved, pushing him into the tunnel that would scan his body to find the damage done and he closed his eyes.

Anyone who said people who were terminally ill weren’t afraid of the end was wrong.

\- - -

After the scan, Jensen was taken directly from the hospital to Jared’s house. There was supposed to be a meteor shower tonight and they wanted to see it. They’d spoken on the phone beforehand and Jared had told him he had a huge backyard and lived in the perfect place for watching the bits of rock that would shine through their atmosphere as they disintegrated in flames. Once Jensen got there, he knew his friend was right.

Jared Padalecki lived almost in the middle of nowhere. The backyards were ridiculously huge and the lights from the nearby city didn’t penetrate this part of the landscape. They’d be able to see everything perfectly. He was even more convinced of this when he arrived and Jared immediately took him to that backyard and he saw it was very well kept. There were flowers and nice bushes of every kind surrounding them. There weren’t any fences, but the hedges made a fence of their own and Jensen felt like he was in the backyard of Daddy Warbucks rather than Jared Padalecki.

"Mom just calls it the garden,” Jared said, tentatively watching Jensen.

“I can see why,” Jensen replied, staring at the landscape around him. He looked back at Jared. “You have a beautiful house. And a beautiful garden.”

Jared blushed and looked away. “My mom just hires someone to take care of it.”

“It’s still not as beautiful as you,” Jensen said, pulling Jared up against him, his hands on his hips. He knew he was being cheesy, but Jensen had never dated anyone that he truly cared about and he was finding, more and more, that all of the cheesy things were true and fit perfectly. Maybe that was why they were said so often in books and movies. It was the only way the main character could think to describe their lover. “I’m going to come up with something different,” he said suddenly.

“What?” Jared asked, looking confused. He was oblivious to his internal monologue.

“I’m going to come up with new things to say to you,” Jensen replied, “instead of just the cheesy ones that are overused.”

“I don’t know,” Jared said, a smile making its way onto his lips. “I kind of like the old cheesy things. I don’t want you to come up with anything new.”

“Well, you deserve it,” Jensen said. “So I’m going to.”

He kissed Jared then. They hadn’t kissed much since that night on top of the ferris wheel and maybe this was the reason it felt so special every time, but Jensen was sure it had more to do with the fact that he was in love with the person he was kissing than anything else. When they parted, all he wanted to do was go back for more, and who knew how much time they had left together, so he did. He kissed Jared for a full two minutes before a throat cleared behind them and they jumped apart.

Jared’s older brother, Jeff, stood on the porch. “Mom told me to tell you that dinner’s almost ready and she’ll help you guys set up where you want to sleep and stuff after.”

He seemed much happier than he had the last time Jensen had seen him, but there was something else there, something that Jensen couldn’t quite decipher, but before he was given a chance, Jared said, “Thanks, Jeff. Tell mom we’re coming.”

Jeff nodded and disappeared.

“He looked…sad,” Jensen said, the word finally coming to him.

“Huh?” Jared asked, turning to him.

“Your brother,” Jensen said, turning to Jared as well. “He looked really sad. Did he break up with a girlfriend or something recently? “

There was a tense moment where Jared said nothing, but it was over so quickly that Jensen didn’t think anything of it. Before he could ask another question, his friend was laughing and saying, “No. He just didn’t get into the school he wanted to. He was taking a year off before applying for college and apparently colleges don’t like that, so he didn’t get into the school he wanted to, so he was really bummed out.”

 Jensen smiled and nodded, slinging his arm over Jared’s shoulders saying, “Let’s go have some of your mom’s cooking.”

“It’s not that great,” Jared warned. “Nowhere near as good as _your_ mom’s.”

Jensen shrugged. “I can’t be spoiled with good food _all_ the time.”

Jared laughed and they went inside.

Dinner was short and, as Jared had warned, not nearly as good as what Jensen was used to, but he ate a polite amount before Jared dragged him back outside. Both of them grabbed an armful of blankets on their way out, Jared carrying slightly less than Jensen since he had to carry his oxygen tank as well. They dumped them on the grass and spread them out, saving a few to cover themselves with before they went to get some pillows.

“Don’t you want to put up a tent?” Jared’s father called to them as they lay down on their thick blanket mattress. “There’s always a chance it could ran and you two will get soaked.” It was clear from his tone of voice this was something that definitely _couldn’t_ happen for Jared’s health and, suddenly, Jensen was worried as well.

“We won’t be able to see the meteor shower that way,” Jared complained.

"We don’t want to get wet, though,” Jensen said carefully.

Jared gave him a frustrated look.

There was a silence between the three of them for a moment before Jensen finally said, “How about we set up the tent and when we’re ready for bed, we can just sleep in there? We can spend the rest of the night outside.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Mr. Padalecki chimed in. “There’s a flap on the top of the tent you can open to see the meteors if you would rather lie in there and watch them.”

Jared huffed, but agreed and after labor mostly on the part of Mr. Padalecki and Jeff, since Jensen and Jared had already exhausted themselves bringing out the pillows and blankets, the tent was set up and they were lying side by side, comfortable within its walls.

“Goodnight, boys,” Mr. Padalecki said.

“Night,” Jeff said.

“Goodnight,” Jared and Jensen said together.

They were quiet as they watched the first stars come out through the large flap in the tent’s ceiling. They weren’t touching, but their fingers were only inches apart.

“How was your PET scan today?” Jared finally asked. His voice was quiet.

Jensen shrugged. “It was okay,” he said.

They were quiet for a little longer before Jared asked, “Are you afraid to die?”

Jensen turned to look at him. His mouth was set differently and his eyes seemed focused on something Jensen couldn’t see. It took him a moment to recognize the expression. It was one of utter hopelessness. It startled Jensen to see that in Jared. Jared was the one who was always telling him not to give up, to not lose hope because there was still a chance that he could survive. It was Jensen who was supposed to be the hopeless one. Why was Jared suddenly so sad?

Swallowing hard, Jensen said, “What’s going on, Jay?”

Jared shook his head; there were tears in his eyes. “Nothing. I’m-I’m just worried about you,” he said. “You seemed so…subdued after you came back from your PET scan and I’m worried about what the results are going to be. I know you think that they’re going to be bad. You always do. And-and what if they are?” He turned to look at Jensen. “No one is supposed to die before me, Jen. That was the promise I was given when I was told I wouldn’t live very long because of how sick I am. That’s the _one_ good thing I get. I don’t have to lose anyone. I-I’m not going to lose you.”

Jensen pulled Jared to him, wrapping his arm around the small boy, letting him bury his face in his chest and cry. He didn’t correct him. He didn’t tell him that the scan had gone well. The truth was, he didn’t know. He could understand Jared’s concern; every day he was worried that he was going to get a call that Jared’s heart had given out.

It was the tragedy of loving someone who was dying.

A light shot across his peripheral vision. He blinked and turned to look at the sky. A few seconds later, another light shot across it and he smiled.

“Jared,” he said, shaking his friend slightly. “Jared, look!”

Jared sniffled and pulled his head out of Jensen’s chest and looked up at the sky.

Several bright streaks of white light shot past overhead. Then more. And more. The two boys stared up at the sky in awe of the hundreds of bright bits of light flying by them. Jensen turned and looked at Jared. He saw the tears drying on his cheeks, some that had caught in the oxygen tube under his nose still glistening in the limited light from overhead, and he could not stop himself from kissing him. This wasn’t the tender tentative kiss that had happened on the Ferris wheel. This was a passionate kiss that was begging for more.

Jared responded similarly, his fingers immediately knotting themselves in the shirt Jensen was wearing. His other hand slid over his bald head and Jensen had never wished for hair more in his life than he did right then. He wanted to feel Jared’s hand running through it. He wanted Jared to pull it.

 _Stupid cancer,_ he thought, but banished it almost instantly.

He was not going to allow thoughts of his illness or Jared’s to ruin this perfect moment.

Neither of them were quite sure how it happened, but suddenly they were shirtless. Jared’s fingers traced Jensen’s thin chest. He counted his ribs like rosary beads with his nails while Jensen kissed his collarbone. Jared let out soft, happy sighs every now and then and that was all the encouragement Jensen needed to keep going. The only time he paused was when his hand trailed down to the drawstring of Jared’s pajama pants, but after getting a simple nod from his friend, he undid the knot there and pulled them down slightly, exposing Jared’s surprisingly large sex.

“I think it’s compensation,” Jared said, laughing a little, though his voice was shaking from nerves.

“Compensation for what?” Jensen asked curiously.

“Being sick,” Jared replied. “I know it sounds stupid.”

Jensen shook his head. “It sounds legit,” he told him.

They both laughed.

Jensen had never had sex before with a boy _or_ a girl, but he was a teenage boy and internet porn wasn’t exactly something that was foreign to him, so, thinking back on what he’d seen on the screen of his laptop, he wrapped his fingers around Jared’s cock and began to stroke him. Jared’s eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted back. A long, low moan came out of him. Once he was completely hard, Jensen began to go down on him, his tongue licking him all over, his mouth sucking at him eagerly. Jared was writhing beneath him and Jensen never knew that making someone else feel that good could make you feel so good yourself.

“H-how are you so good at this?” Jared asked.

Jensen shrugged and told the truth. “I watch a lot of porn.” Jared chuckled a little as Jensen began to blush. “I-I don’t have lube or anything, so I don’t know if we can do anything else.” He knew without lube, he could hurt Jared and he didn’t want to do that.

Jared rummaged in the bag next to his oxygen tank and pulled out a tube of exactly what Jensen had been missing. “My parents have some,” he said blushing. “It wasn’t really something I wanted to find while looking in their bathroom. I mean, no kid wants to know what their parents are doing when they’re asleep or out of the house, but now I guess I’m glad I was snooping.”

“What were you really looking for?” Jensen asked, taking the lube and looking it over.

Jared shrugged. “Condoms, actually.”

“Did you find those?”

Jared held up a box and Jensen took them. He set it aside. They’d need it in a minute. Then he pulled Jared’s pants off the rest of the way and covered his ass in the lube. He squirted some into his hands and covered it in the stuff before he placed one finger tentatively at his entrance. Then, as carefully as he could, he began to ease it inside him.

Jared tensed, his fingers curling in the blankets surrounding them.

Immediately Jensen paused and looked up at him worriedly. “Does it hurt?”

Biting his lip, Jared nodded. “I-I think I’ll get used to it, though. I mean, that’s what’s supposed to happen, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen replied, trying to soothe Jared. Still he added, “If it hurts too much, we can stop. We don’t have to do this.”

Jared shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “I want to. If it hurts after too much longer, we’ll stop. I want to give myself a chance to get used to it first.”

Jensen nodded and continued fingering Jared open, watching his hole grow larger and larger. Jared’s small, strained gasps soon became small, strained moans that begged for more. Jensen pulled out his fingers briefly and licked the small pink hole, smiling when Jared arched with pleasure as he did so. He went back to fingering him after he did this a few more times, but even after having fingered him for several long minutes, it still wasn’t large enough to fit his cock. Where Jared was large, Jensen was thick.

Once Jared was as open as Jensen could get him, he pulled his fingers out of his twitching hole, put on a condom, covered his own dick in lube, and pressed the tip against Jared’s entrance before, as gently as he possibly could, easing himself inside.

Jared tensed again, but only for a moment. Jensen’s fingering him had relaxed the muscles of his entrance. The rest of him relaxed as well only a moment after Jensen pushed inside him. Jensen moved in and out of him slowly at first, grunting into the hollow of his neck. Jared clutched at him, wrapping his long skinny arms around his shoulders and breathing against his skin as Jensen moved in and out of him, letting out a gasp each time he thrust deep.

Once Jensen was sure Jared was comfortable, he sped up, moving in and out of him more quickly. He began to shake from the sheer pleasure of it.

“Fuck,” he gasped out. “You-you’re so tight.”

Jared couldn’t speak, what he was feeling was so good, but Jensen didn’t really expect him to answer. He could hardly get out his own words to begin with.

Then, with a loud grunt, Jensen came hard and deep inside Jared. It was as he was slowing, still thrusting in and out of him, his cock softening, that Jared came as well, shuddering and jerking beneath him. Jensen collapsed on top of Jared and, once he regained some of his strength, rolled off of him. He stared up at the sky, still streaked with bright lights. He was trembling from head to toe.

“That was good,” he finally gasped out.

“Better than good,” Jared told him. It hadn’t lasted long, not really, but he couldn’t have said anything truer in that moment. Jared was breathing heavily too and suddenly Jensen was worried. What if he’d hurt Jared’s heart by doing this? He looked at him, but the worry must have been written all over his face because Jared laughed a little and said, “I’m okay, Jen. I promise.”

Jensen moved closer to him and wrapped an arm around him and Jared curled into him, placing his ear over his heart, listening to the healthy beat with a smile on his face, his hand resting on the middle of his chest. For a long time, they lay like that, both staring up at the sky, both smiling in post-orgasm bliss. As Jensen watched the meteors fly by above them, he couldn’t remember a happier moment in his entire life.

That was how they drifted off.


	10. Nine

It was the sun shining through the flap in the tent’s ceiling that woke Jensen up the next morning. He groaned from the brightness shining on his closed eyelids as he realized they’d forgotten to close it the night before. This ended up waking Jared who groaned as well, mumbling, “I should probably find my pants before my mom comes and checks on us.”

Jensen laughed tiredly. “Probably,” he agreed. They hadn’t cleaned up what mess they’d left the night before, so now they were covered in dried come. They wiped it up as best they could with one of the older, rattier blankets they’d dragged out into the tent and then dressed themselves for the day, laughing and kissing each other as they did so.

Once they were dressed, they’d laid back down in their mess of blankets, Jensen’s arm back around Jared. Jared curled up against Jensen, his ear pressed over his heart. Jensen bit his lip and said softly, “I have to go back to the hospital today.”

Jared looked up at him. “Why?”

“They’re going to tell me my results of my PET scan,” he replied softly.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Jared said, his voice just as soft.

“I don’t think so,” Jensen replied. He didn’t even say it in his usual depressed tone. He said it as though it were a fact and it was this more than anything that kept Jared from replying. It broke his heart.

They were both quiet after that. If Jensen was right and the results turned out to be bad, they both knew what that meant: this little fairytale they’d both spun for themselves would be over. Their time together would be even more limited than it had already been. The doctor would tell Jensen how much time he had left and that would be that. They’d spend every moment they could together, but it would now be tainted by the fact that Jensen was dying and what they’d been trying desperately to ignore had finally come to the surface.

Finally, Jared said, “It isn’t going to help anything worrying about it now. C’mon. Let’s go inside and have some breakfast and play videogames until your mom gets here.”

Jensen forced a smile and nodded. They left the pillows and blankets out in the backyard, making sure to zip the tent ceiling flap in case it decided to rain, though the skies were a cloudless blue and this didn’t seem likely.

“Won’t your parents get mad if we just leave this out here?” Jensen asked.

Jared shook his head. “They know it’s harder for us to do ‘manual labor’. They’ll probably offer to clean this up themselves once you leave,” he replied.

They went into the kitchen and found Mrs. Padalecki making pancakes. Jared had some with a minimal amount of butter, while Jensen piled on the syrup. Once they’d finished and thanked Jared’s mother for the meal, they went into the living room and put Halo into Jared’s Xbox. They played for fun at first and then, to add to the fun, they added wagers. Whoever lost had to give the winner a kiss wherever he wanted. It was cheesy and relatively stupid, but neither of them cared. Mostly they kissed each other on the lips, but every so often they would make a really dumb request.

“I want you to kiss my feet,” Jared declared after he killed Jensen for the fifth time.

“I am _not_ kissing your feet,” Jensen replied.

Jared’s pink lips puffed out as he pouted. “Why not?”

“Because they’re feet!” he said as though this should explain everything.

Jared laughed. “So? That’s what I want you to kiss.”

Jensen shoved him. Jared shoved back and soon they were lightly wrestling with one another on the couch. The wrestling match ended with Jensen on top of Jared, kissing him on the lips a bit more passionately than he probably should’ve been with Jared’s mother in the other room. They both seemed to realize this at the same time and sprang apart, going back to the game as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

This happened only once more after Jensen won the next match, but when they realized how winded they both were, they decided they wouldn’t make any more ridiculous kissing requests or fight with each other. Neither of them really had the strength for it.

Eventually they grew bored of doing this, but around that time Jensen’s mother showed up. They had a few more minutes to play their game while their mothers spoke with one another, but before too long Jensen’s mother was telling him they had to get to the hospital because their appointment was in twenty minutes. Jensen gave Jared a kiss goodbye, completely forgetting about his bad feeling about this.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised. “Call me later.”

“Okay,” Jared replied.

The drive to the hospital was silent. Usually Jensen’s mother turned on the radio or talked about meaningless things to keep the car from being so quiet, but today she said nothing. He swallowed hard. She was worried, too.

They were silent all the way into the doctor’s office. By then, the silence was deafening and Jensen was twitching with nerves. He bounced his leg. He counted the ceiling tiles. He counted the cars driving by outside. He ran his hand over his bald head and rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to text Jared just to have something to do, but he was certain the minute he pulled out his phone the doctor would walk through the door, so he continued to sit nervously in silence, swallowing every now and then, wondering what was going to happen.

After what felt like a lifetime had passed, the door behind him opened and he and his mother both looked over their shoulders as his doctor walked in the door.

“Sorry about the wait,” he said with a smile, taking the seat behind the mahogany desk. He set a manila folder down in front of him. “I was just getting the last of the results of Jensen’s scan.”

“Can we just get right to it?” Jensen said nervously.

The doctor smiled at him and said, “Of course.” He opened the folder and pulled out the scan results. He turned them towards Jensen and his mother. They both leaned forward. “It seems that the chemotherapy has been doing its job. Normally with this kind of cancer the chemotherapy works immediately or not at all. We were worried since Jensen’s been sick for two years rather than the one we suspected, but it looks like you’re in remission.” He smiled broadly at Jensen who could hardly believe what the doctor was saying.

He was in remission. He knew this didn’t mean his cancer was gone, but it meant that his tumors weren’t growing anymore. He was getting better. If he were in remission for five years, he would officially be cured. It was a long time to wait, but this was the beginning of it and he could hardly believe that it was actually happening, that his time with Jared wasn’t drawing to a close and that his boyfriend had been right.

He was going to live.

His mother was crying and hugging him, hardly able to articulate how happy she was through her tears. Jensen hugged her back, smiling and holding back his own tears. He quickly pulled out his phone to text Jared and tell him. His mother pulled out her phone as well, calling his father who he could hear whooping over the phone. He heard Mackenzie crying and saying how happy she was. They were already planning on celebrating by going out to dinner and a movie that night.

“It will take a little while for you to feel normal, assuming that you stay in remission for a while,” the doctor said, “but your hair should start growing back within a couple of weeks and within a month you should start feeling like you did before you got sick.”

Jensen nodded and smiled. His mother thanked the doctor for all he’d done. Jensen did the same and then the both of them left the office.

“What do you want to do?” His mother asked, wiping her eyes as they left the office. “We can do anything you want, sweetheart.”

“Can Jared come with us to the movie and dinner?” he asked.

She smiled. “Of course,” she replied. She hugged him again. They’d reached the waiting room near the emergency room. She kissed his forehead and added, “I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute, alright?”

Jensen sat down in one of the free seats in the waiting room. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. He frowned. Jared still hadn’t answered him. Usually he answered right away. No matter what. He sighed and opened up one of his games. Jared was probably taking a nap. He needed a lot of rest with his condition.

It was then that the automatic doors to the emergency bay opened. A group of paramedics were wheeling someone in, shouting things at one another. Jensen looked up and watched them as they turned the gurney in his direction towards the operating room. He was about to look back down at his phone when he realized he recognized the woman hurrying along with the gurney, holding the hand of the person lying on it.

Mrs. Padalecki.

Jensen stood, his heart pounding in his chest, praying this wasn’t happening.

But there was a break in the paramedics and he got a clear view of the person lying on the gurney, the person with a clip on their finger recording their heart rate, an IV in their arm that one of the paramedics was holding above their head, an oxygen mask on their face.

It was Jared.


	11. Ten

Jensen couldn’t stop the strangled sound that made its way through his lips as he watched the paramedics wheel Jared down the hallway towards the operating room. He watched as a pair of doctors finally held his mother back, telling her she’d have to sit in the waiting room while they operated on her son.

“He’s too weak!” she cried out. “He won’t survive another operation! I-I want to be with my son! I don’t want him to die alone!”

Her words and the tone in which she said them broke Jensen’s heart.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and turn around. His mother was standing there, looking stricken. Jensen opened his mouth to tell her what had happened, but no words came out. He didn’t really need to, though. It was obvious to anyone that she’d seen the whole thing, anyway. After a moment, she walked past Jensen to Jared’s mother. They spoke in hushed tones, glancing back towards Jensen and down the hall several times before Mrs. Padalecki broke down in Jensen’s mother’s arms. She tried to shush her, tried to comfort her, but when that didn’t seem to be working, she led her from the middle of the hall over to one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Several people looked up, but for the most part everyone went back to reading their year-old magazines, staring at their shoes, or gazing with dazed expression at the muted television hanging on the wall.

They sat silently for a long time while Jared’s father and siblings arrived to sit next to her. Then, finally, Mrs. Padalecki took a deep breath, turned to Jensen and told him everything Jared had been keeping from him.

It’d happened after the Hot Air Balloon Contest, the day they were scheduled to go to the carnival. They went in for a regular checkup and during the ultrasound on his heart something strange had happened. The doctor had thought it was a malfunction with the equipment at first and had idly asked Jared if anything had been different for him over the past month. Jared had admitted to have more frequent chest pains and feeling more lethargic. More than once he’d thought he was going to have an attack when he didn’t. That was when the doctor had swallowed hard and told Jared they had to do some other tests. She used a lot of big words that Jensen probably should have understood considering how much time he’d personally spent in the hospital the past couple of years, but he didn’t. All he knew was they all added up to the same thing.

Jared found out he was dying. He was told the next time he had an attack would be the four week marker. In fact, he’d be lucky if he made it that long or if he survived the impending attack. The doctors didn’t know how long it would be until then and had sent him home, telling him to be careful and take extra care of himself, but Jared hadn’t done that. He’d known his life was drawing to a close and he wanted to spend as much time as he could doing what _he_ wanted.

“I know he was trying to convince himself that this wasn’t a big deal,” Jared’s mother choked out. “He was such a brave boy. He didn’t want us to worry or be too sad, but I know he cried sometimes. I know he couldn’t keep it together sometimes and he’d just…break down. He tried to keep it to himself, but sometimes he would look so sad at dinner or when we were out.”

Jensen thought back to when Jared had cried in his arms at the top of the Ferris wheel and when he’d cried during the meteor shower. He hadn’t understood the reason then. He’d figured something had happened that he wasn’t willing to talk about, but he had never thought it was this. It’d never occurred to him that Jared’s clock was ticking much more quickly than his own. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that. Especially not after they’d gotten together. He couldn’t have Jared in his life again just to lose him, but it was looking like that was exactly what was going to happen.

By the end of the story, most everyone in their row of chairs was crying. Megan was curled up in her chair sobbing into her knees. Jeff had his arm wrapped around her and kept swallowing hard, trying to hold back his own sobs even as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Jensen’s mother had her handkerchief pressed against her mouth to repress her sobs. Mr. and Mrs. Padalecki were leaning into each other, crying softly and yet expressing grief in a way that was far more heartbreaking than any of them.

Jensen was the only one whose face wasn’t tearstained. He wasn’t sure if he was just too shocked to cry or if he had been expecting something like this all along and therefore it didn’t come as a surprise to him.

They sat in the waiting room far longer than they probably should have, even for the kind of operation Jared was having. More than once, Jensen’s mother suggested they go home. They could always come back later, but Jensen didn’t want to go home. He would have to pretend to be happy. He couldn’t do that right now. He couldn’t celebrate his own health when Jared’s was declining more rapidly than it ever had. He didn’t even want to go home and just stew in his own sadness. He’d have to explain to his family what was going on and he wasn’t sure he could recount the story Mrs. Padalecki had told him without breaking down completely.

It was nearly eight in the evening when a doctor finally came into the waiting room and called the names of the Padalecki family. Though Jensen really didn’t belong with them, he got up and went to the doctor when he called.

“It was a very risky procedure, but he survived the operation,” the doctor said. A great sigh of relief was let out from all four members of the Padalecki family and Jensen. “He’s currently in one of the ICU rooms resting. He’ll have to stay here for a couple of days, but after that, if you would like, we can send him home with a nurse to help make him comfortable. I don’t think he has longer than a week or two.”

Mr. and Mrs. Padalecki said that would be fine with them and then they were led from the waiting room to where Jared was sleeping. The doctor said only two people were allowed in the room at the time and, of course, his parents were the ones that went in. Jeff, Megan, and Jensen stood outside of the room, looking through the window into where Jared lay. The sight of him made Jensen clutch the small, white sill for support.

More than once, Jensen had been really sick. He’d been hooked up to several different machines and had drifted in and out of consciousness for a couple days, but he was certain he’d never looked as ill as Jared did now.

A mountain of machines surrounded him. Jensen was only able to name a few of them such as the oxygen machine filtering fresh air up through the tube to the mask that covered half of Jared’s face, obscuring his perfect nose, and the heart monitor that was connected to him by a gray clip on one finger that spiked with every beat of his weak and dying heart. The other machines were foreign objects to him. He noted an IV in one hand and wires running from another small machine to a place in his upper arm. He figured both of those gave him more medicine.

Without warning, Jensen’s knees buckled and the tears he’d been holding in ever since Mrs. Padalecki told him what was happening burst forth. He sobbed on the floor, the tips of his fingers of one hand still curled slightly around the sill of the window. He knew he had to be making a racket and that he’d be thrown out if he didn’t shut up, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Even when Megan and Jeff bent down to try and sooth him, he couldn’t stop.

The boy he was in love with was dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.


	12. Eleven

Even though he wasn’t allowed into the room if both of his parents were there, Jensen went to visit Jared in the ICU every day. He would watch through the window as the machines around Jared beeped and whirred, signaling that, by some miracle, he was still alive. If he was lucky, he’d sit next to him and hold his hand.

When he was allowed to do this, he would lace their fingers together and gently stroke his thin, pale arm, wondering if he would ever wake up, if he’d ever get to see his beautiful hazel eyes ever again.

He spoke to him in soft tones, telling him over and over again how much he loved him, telling him how much he meant to him. According to Jared’s mother, he’d woken a couple times, but it was always when Jensen wasn’t there. More than once, Jensen begged his mother to let him stay overnight when Jared’s parents couldn’t, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

“You’ve finally gotten better,” she scolded him. “Do you want to get sick again?”

“If it means I can spend a few extra hours with Jared, then yeah,” Jensen replied.

“Your health isn’t worth that,” she said. It was the wrong thing to say.

“He’s dying!” Jensen shrieked, hurting his throat. “I don’t know how much time I have left with him! A couple days or a couple weeks of this isn’t going to kill me, too!”

But it turned out the argument was all for naught. The next day when Jensen arrived at the hospital, much earlier than he had the days before, Jared was awake and being pushed out of his room in a wheelchair. “Jensen!” he said excitedly. He was weak and slumped in the chair, but his entire face lit up when he saw him.

“What’s going on?” Jensen asked, hurrying to his side. He took his hand, which still had an IV in it and walked alongside the wheelchair his nurse was pushing.

“I’m going home,” he said eagerly, looking up at him. “I’m going to have a nurse taking care of me, but I’m going to be home.”

He went on to explain he’d still have an IV and a feeding tube as well as the oxygen tank that he’d had to begin with, but Jensen was hardly listening, all he could see were the bruise-like shadows under Jared’s eyes and the deathly pallor of his skin. Jensen had seen enough movies and heard enough from doctors after he’d gotten sick to know that once a person was moved from a hospital to their home with the machine that they would usually only use in the hospital that they really were dying. Jared’s mother had told him that only a couple of days ago, but hearing Jared tell him this now made it all the more real. Tears filled his eyes and he quickly excused himself, telling Jared he had to go to the bathroom and would see him at his house in twenty minutes before he darted off. Once he closed the bathroom door, he cried, a hand pressed against his mouth to muffle his sobs.

\- - -

The Padalecki household felt darker than it had the last time Jensen had been there.

There were large windows in every room, letting in a lot of light, but all of it felt dull and muted somehow. Outside the sky was a robin’s egg blue and there was not a cloud to be seen in the bright summer sky, but inside the house, it felt as though the sky above them was as overcast as everything in Jensen’s life seemed to have become in only a few moments. He leaned against the jamb of the front door to steady himself. Jared wasn’t strong anymore. He had to be strong for him now, no matter how hard that was going to be.

“He’s waiting for you,” Mrs. Padalecki told him gently when she saw him. She gestured down the hall in the direction of Jared’s room. The house was all one level, so Jared didn’t have to worry about going up and down stairs and a hospital bed didn’t have to be brought into the living room or someplace else. Jared was lucky. He would be able to die in his own bed in his own room.

Jensen walked down the hall, looking at the pictures hanging on the walls as he went.

It seemed Jared’s parents had captured every stage of his childhood. They’d known early on their middle son would not be with them for long, so they’d done their best to take as many pictures of him as they could. Jensen noticed he’d had the oxygen tank ever since he was born, but he also noticed that he’d always smiled, always tried to be happy.

Jensen felt that it was completely unfair Jared should be so positive and then doomed to die when Jensen had been so negative and then was allowed to live. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply to keep himself from crying before he turned into Jared’s room.

If it was at all possible, which Jensen hadn’t thought it was, Jared looked worse lying in his bed than he had when leaving the hospital. Both the machine his feeding tube connected to and his IV and oxygen machine were standing next to the side of the bed not facing the door. Jensen noticed Jared’s closet door was open and inside he saw a small supply of oxygen tanks for whenever Jared needed to leave the house. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be doing much of that in the days to come.

When Jensen had first entered the room, Jared had looked to be asleep. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. Not wanting to disturb him, thinking he needed all the sleep he could get, Jensen was turning on his heel to leave the room when a soft, weak voice from the bed sounded out across the room that felt as dark as the rest of the house.

"Jensen.”

He had to take a deep breath and force a smile before he turned back to Jared.

“Hey,” he said, exhaling as he spoke. “How do you feel?”

Jared was smiling, but it faltered and he sighed heavily as Jensen approached him. “I wish people would quit asking me that,” he mumbled, looking at his hand with the IV, which was picking at the sheet beneath him.

“Why?” Jensen asked. “We’re just worried about you.”

 “I know,” Jared replied, “but how does everyone think I am? I’m dying.”

The silence that filled the room was deafening.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jared finally said softly, still refusing to look at Jensen. “Every time I broke down in front of you, I hated myself. I didn’t want to have to tell you about what was going to happen and I knew I shouldn’t start dating you to begin with because it’d hurt you even more when you did find out, but I didn’t want to be there to see your reaction.” There was another silence, this one shorter, before Jared added, “I’m sorry. What I did was selfish. I should’ve just told you.”

Jensen took Jared’s hand carefully and stared at their interlaced fingers for a while before he said, “I would have liked to know about this to begin with, but I don’t think that it would’ve stopped me from dating you or wanting to date you.”

The look on Jared’s face was one of puzzlement. “How come?”

Jensen looked sad when he smiled, looking up at Jared. “Because I was already in love with you at that point. I knew you were terminal. My parents told me that about your disease and so did my sister. They reminded me more than once that your disease would eventually kill you, but that didn’t stop me from liking you. I guess – I guess I was doomed from the start, Jay, but I think that’s the way people are. They like what’s bad for them and they want what they can’t have. It’s encoded into our DNA.”

“Is that all?” Jared asked, his voice breaking. He was smiling, but there was a bit of hurt in his expression and his tone of voice.

Jensen laughed a little before he sighed, looked down and said, “That isn’t the only reason I love you, Jay. I love you because you were my first friend and because, even though you could tell I didn’t want to be around people, you still wanted to reconnect with me when you saw me at our stupid therapy group. I love you because when you smile, I swear that, if there is a God, he’s smiling down on all of us through you. I love you because, even though you knew you were going to die, that this was going to happen someday, that you were living on borrowed time, you still were optimistic about it and you wanted to make me feel better about the fact that I _could_ die, too. I love you because everything about you is perfect. And I do mean everything. They say no one is perfect, but goddammit, Jared, if you’re not the embodiment of perfection, I don’t know what is.”

He didn’t look up at Jared, almost afraid to see what his expression would be, until he felt Jared’s hand pull out of his and his finger gently tilt his chin up. He was smiling at him, one of the warmest and most welcoming smiles Jensen had ever seen. He was certain this was what the angel of death would look like when it came for him many years from now when he was old and lying sick in his bed, much as Jared was now. Maybe it would even be Jared that came for him.

“I love you,” were the words that Jared managed to get out before Jensen pulled him closer and kissed him, holding him against him until he had to let go because he couldn’t breathe, but, as stupid as it sounded, he would have gladly suffocated if it meant staying close to Jared longer.

But he had to pull away. Jared was getting tired. He needed rest. And Jensen needed to leave. He gave Jared one last lingering kiss before he left the room.

\- - -

Over the next few days, Jensen barely left Jared’s house. In fact, most of the time, he ended up spending the night on their couch in the living room. He worried he was imposing on the Padalecki family, but both Mr. and Mrs. Padalecki reassured him he wasn’t and he was welcome to stay over for however long he wanted. His mother, however, wasn’t as accepting of his new sleeping arrangements.

“You need to come home sometimes,” she told him over the phone one morning. “You need to take care of yourself and work on getting better. You’re only in remission. You’re not cured, Jensen. Not yet. Your cancer could come back and you could die.”

“Mom, I’m fine,” Jensen told her again; he’d lost count of how many times he’d had this conversation. “Jared _isn’t_. He’s _dying_. He’s probably not going to make it through the rest of the month and I don’t want him to be alone. I know he has his family here, but I don’t want him to think I don’t care.”

The truth was, Jensen was getting very little sleep and working much harder than a boy who was in remission should’ve been. He was helping out around the Padalecki household, trying to keep everything going along with the rest of the Padalecki family when Jared wasn’t awake. He washed the dishes, scrubbed the floor, mowed the lawn, and even occasionally cooked dinner. They all told him over and over again he didn’t have to do any of this and that his mother was right, he shouldn’t be, but what no one understood was that Jensen had to. Thinking about the real reason he was there was too much. He had to keep his mind on other things. If he started thinking about Jared dying, he’d start crying and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to make himself stop.

When Jared was awake, Jensen spent all of his time with him. He would read to him from any of the books on his many shelves or he would play board or card or video games with him. They laughed and had fun together as if this were any one of their other dates, but they never really forgot, not even for a second, what was really going on. The IV pole, the whir of the oxygen machine, the feeding tube…they all made sure of that. Other things reminded them, too. Such as the winces Jared tried to hide or the fact that when they were in the middle of a game sometimes Jared would stop talking and begin to drift off midsentence or forget what was going on around him. When Jensen asked Jared’s parents about this, they told him it was normal for people with his condition.

“As it gets closer and closer to the end,” his mother told him one evening during dinner, “it’ll start happening more and more. His heart won’t be pumping enough oxygen to his brain and we’ll have to increase how many liters of oxygen is flowing through the nasal cannula as time goes on.”

It turned out they had to increase the dosage daily. Most of the time, Jared’s mother did this when she woke up in the morning. It was the first thing she did. She went into Jared’s room, turned up the dosage on his oxygen, and then went to the kitchen to make breakfast. But more than once she’d had to do it in the middle of the night when Jared awoke, wheezing and gasping for air, barely able to breathe.

The first time this happened, Jensen nearly called 911, but Mrs. Padalecki stopped him. She went into Jared’s room, turned up the oxygen dosage, and went back to bed after explaining what had happened and that she’d known because Jared had a button next to his bed that he could press to make her phone ring and warn her that her son needed her.

Still, Jensen couldn’t get the image of Jared sitting upright in bed, his eyes wide with terror, mouth open, lungs rattling with the effort of trying to pull air into them out of his head. Slowly he came to realize that he’d probably always have that image and there wouldn’t be anything he’d be able to do to get rid of it as long as he lived.

“I hate this,” Jensen said softly, shaking his head at his knees, his arms crossed. He was sitting on the couch one afternoon while Jared slept. “I hate watching him die this way.”

Megan, who was sitting next to him reading, looked up from her book. To his surprise, she was glaring. “How do you think I feel?” she asked. “I’ve had to watch this my whole life and I’ve always had to be strong for him. I’ve always had to act like the tubes and the hospital and the scars don’t bother me because I knew if I didn’t he’d be hurt even more. I’ve known my brother was going to die all my life. That’s all I can remember. Jeff at least knew a few years without the tubes and the hospital smell that lingers around that part of the hallway by his room, but I haven’t. I’ve had to watch my big brother slowly die every day. Really, this is no different from one of his bad times except we all know now that this bad time isn’t going to ever end. Not really. I guess it will in a way, but he’s going to die and that really isn’t it ending. That’s Jared leaving and never coming back.”

She didn’t say anything else. She turned back to her book, tears running down her face. She tried to contain her sobs for several minutes before she finally got up and ran from the room. Jensen tried to pretend he didn’t hear her crying in the bathroom down the hall. It seemed everyone else did the same because no one spoke about it at dinner that night.

“You need to go home,” Jared told him one evening three days later.

Jensen looked up from his hand of cards, feeling hurt. “Why?” he asked. “Don’t you want me here?”

“I do!” Jared reassured him. “I do, I promise, but you need to rest, too. You need sleep. I know you don’t sleep well on the couch and you’re recovering from _cancer_. You need to rest more than you are.”

Jensen went back to looking at his cards and said nothing.

His bald head was no longer as bald. There was peach fuzz starting to grow there. Sometimes he would run his hand over his head and smile, knowing within a few weeks’ time he’d have a full head of hair again. He felt like he was getting better, but clearly his mother – and Jared – had a different opinion about that.

“I can’t leave you,” Jensen said. “I can’t. What if – what if you die while I’m gone?”

Jared sighed and put down his cards. “One way or another, I’m going to die,” he said. “And if you’re not here for it, in the long run, that’s really not going to matter to me or anyone else. It’s not going to stop me from dying. I’ll know you love me whether you’re here or not, just as I would know my family loves me whether _they’re_ here or not.” He took Jensen’s hand. Jensen looked up. “Please,” Jared’s voice was soft now. “Please go home. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

He didn’t promise he would be there the next day and it was for this very reason that Jensen wanted to turn him down. However, the look in his eyes was pleading and desperate and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking it was ridiculous that his dying wish would be for him to sleep in his own bed that night. Still, he laced their fingers together and nodded.

So that night, he called his mother and told her to come pick him up after dinner.

Before he left, he gave Jared a goodbye kiss, promising he’d be back in the morning.

Jared whispered, “I love you, Jensen. I love you more than anything else in this world.”

Jensen smiled and kissed him fiercely. “I love you, too,” he replied and he left.

            - - -

That night, at three-thirty a.m., Jared Padalecki died. He was sixteen years old.

When Jensen felt his phone buzzing against his mattress only a few minutes after that, he awoke instantly and knew, even before he answered, what the person on the other line was going to say.

“Jared just passed away. We think he had another heart attack or his brain suffocated from lack of oxygen. We’ll know in the morning when the doctor can get here,” Mrs. Padalecki told him, her voice surprisingly steady. “He looks very peaceful. He’s with the angels now.”

Jensen thanked her for telling him before he hung up. Afterwards, he stared up at his ceiling, fighting off tears for ten minutes before he let out a strangled cry and began to sob and beat at his pillows.

It wasn’t fair. Why did Jared have to die? He was innocent, pure, and perfect. There needed to be more people like him in the world and, yet, every time a person like him existed, the world destroyed them in whatever way they could. For Jared it had been doubly unfair because he’d never once been well. He’d suffered all his life and died in horrible pain. Jensen clutched at and bawled into his pillow.

The boy he loved was gone.

And he wasn’t coming back.


	13. Twelve

Jared’s funeral was three days later.

Jensen didn’t get to see his body. Both his parents and the Padalecki’s didn’t want him to and, though he knew it was their family and they had done more than enough for him, Jensen felt that in many ways he had a right to see how Jared looked where he died. Mrs. Padalecki seemed to sense his frustration over this and told him repeatedly how peaceful Jared had looked once they found him dead. She never told him how she came to be in his room at three-thirty in the morning, but that much he could guess for himself and each idea was sadder than the last, so he didn’t think about it much.

On the day of Jared’s funeral, he dressed in a black suit he’d gotten for a school dance a few years earlier. It didn’t fit him as well anymore. He was taller and thinner than he had been for the dance, but the suit worked well enough.

A couple days earlier, Jensen’s mother had asked if he would speak at Jared’s funeral.

“You meant so much to him,” she told him. “It would mean the world to me if you would say something about him at the service.”

Jensen wanted to tell her he felt that would be inappropriate. He hadn’t known Jared very long. Not really. They’d been childhood friends and dated for a few months, sure, but they hadn’t known each other in between that time and he couldn’t tell anyone how Jared had grown and how he had cared for him all through that time because that would be dishonest.

But it was as if Mrs. Padalecki could read his mind and before he could say of this, she told him, “You changed him. You made him so much happier. You can’t tell me that means nothing to you or any of us.”

She didn’t speak harshly, but Jensen knew she would be very disappointed if he refused, so he told her he would do his best and proceeded to spend the next couple days attempting to compose a eulogy that would describe everything Jared had meant to him. But no matter what he did, he didn’t seem to be able to properly explain all Jared had done for him in such a short amount of time.

He finally managed to come up with something. He didn’t think it could ever do Jared justice, but it was the best he could do, so it would have to work.

The drive to the service seemed to take forever. He stared out the window the whole time. It was raining and the world was a dull gray. It was as though the world was sharing its own grief at having lost someone so wonderful and important. Jensen had to swallow hard to keep another wave of tears from falling forth. He wasn’t going to cry. Not right now. He would save that for the service.

They parked in the church parking lot and walked slowly into the church for the wake, rain wetting their clothes. It wasn’t raining hard enough to soak them, so Jensen’s parents and siblings didn’t bother with the umbrellas they’d brought as a precaution. Jensen’s mother had forced him to bring his own umbrella, but Jensen knew that even if it had been pouring rain, he wouldn’t have been using it.

They walked through the front of the church to see Jared lying in his coffin and when Jensen got to the front of the church, when he saw Jared lying in what would always be his satin bed, he let out a gasp.

Jensen had only ever known Jared with his oxygen tube, his pale complexion, his general look of sickness, but now he looked healthy lying in that coffin, almost as though he would get up at any minute and walk around or sit up and laugh and say this was all just an elaborate prank. Jensen believed for a minute it would actually happen, but then he remembered the only reason Jared looked healthy was because the coroner had put makeup on him beforehand, and the only reason he didn’t have an oxygen tube anymore was because he was dead. He took a shuddering breath and placed his hand over one of Jared’s, which were lying on his chest. His skin was ice cold and Jensen almost thought he was touching a wax statue rather than his dead boyfriend.

 _I love you,_ he thought, not daring to say it aloud in the packed and silent church. _I love you and I miss you so much._

It’d only been days since Jared died, but that was true.

Jensen let out a choked sob and had to take several deep breaths before he composed himself enough to walk to his seat in the front row with Jared’s family.

The priest came up and opened the ceremony, talking about what a wonderful boy Jared had been and how he’d been taken too soon. Jensen zoned out. He knew all of this. He didn’t need some man in a black and white robe to tell him that. He almost wanted to go up there and tell the man to shut up. None of them were ignorant of the fact that Jared had died unfairly. None of them were kidding themselves that Jared’s life had been fair. Why didn’t he just be quiet so those of them who had actually given a damn about Jared could speak?

Once the priest was done, several of the other people who had come to the funeral got up to speak. Many of them cried, many of them only barely stopped themselves from crying. A few had to leave the small stage before they broke down into unintelligible sobs. Finally, Mrs. Padalecki went up to the dais and said, “Before Jared passed away, he had his first and only boyfriend. This young man was someone who was also sick with a life-threatening illness and someone that Jared had been friends with as a child and managed to reconnect with before he started to date him. He made Jared happier. He made him a better person and I think that’s how I know he truly loved Jared and Jared truly loved him. That’s why I chose him to write the eulogy for Jared. His name is Jensen Ackles.”

There was no applause for Jensen as he got up and took the stage, but he hadn’t expected there to be one to begin with. Everyone was too subdued.

He gave Mrs. Padalecki a friendly smile as she left the stage before he placed his written speech on the podium in front of him, adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat. He took a shuddering breath, looking out at the crowd of eyes before him, flashed his own back to the speech and began to speak.

“When I met Jared Padalecki, we were both six years old and ready to take on the world.” He smiled and the audience did as well. “He was sick. He was always sick, but he was my best friend and the only reason we ever stopped being best friends was because he got too sick to go to school. I never knew what happened to him until _I_ got sick as well several years later and my younger sister persuaded me to join a therapy group at the hospital I spent most of my time in. I met him there and we started to become friends again. Then we became more than friends and…my entire world opened up.”

Jensen paused to take a steadying breath and look at his shaking hands.

“I was certain my cancer was going to kill me,” he finally said. “I told Jared so and he told me that I didn’t know that. Not really. I couldn’t be sure that would happen. He even told me he couldn’t be sure his illness would kill him, even though every doctor and every statistic told him otherwise. But that’s because Jared had this optimism in him that I’ve never seen in anyone else. I never thought he would die or even get sick enough to be considered dying. He fought death tooth and nail and I was sure he’d come out on top. He’d be weathered, sure, but he’d be saying something along the lines of ‘You should’ve seen the other guy.’”

There was gentle laughter from the audience and Jensen allowed himself a smile as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.

“But no one can fight death forever. Not even Jared Padalecki. He eventually passed away and, maybe some people will disagree with me, but at the point he died, it was a blessing. He was suffering so much and no one would ever know that because, in addition to being ridiculously optimistic, Jared was also ridiculously selfless. He never wanted anyone to worry about him. He never wanted to spoil anyone else’s good time, even if it meant he’d have to be in pain and walk farther than he really could or do more when all he _really_ wanted to do was lie down for a while and take a nap. And he was constantly in so much pain that I didn’t even realize how many times I ignored the winces he made or the falters in his steps until I was writing this. I ignored it because he did and I figured if he could make it, then everything was okay, even if it wasn’t. By the time Jared finally let go, I’m sure it was like stepping into a nice warm bath to take a very long nap after a particularly hard day.”

Many people were crying by this point, dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs, and some nodded along with Jensen’s statement.

“Someone once said that love is watching someone die and I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a more true statement. I thought, for a long time, that it would be Jared watching me die, but it was the other way around. I had to watch him suffer. I had to watch him try to catch his breath and hide his pain from the world for months. Towards the end, I had to pretend constantly that this wasn’t killing me on the inside as surely as it was killing him because if I showed my pain, he’d try to hide his and that was a luxury he just couldn’t afford to have anymore. When he finally passed away, I was glad he was no longer in pain. I’m still glad of that and I don’t think anyone who spent a great amount of time with him would want to bring him back now.”

Jensen took another heavy breath.

“We all miss him and we all wish he hadn’t died like this. I don’t think that’s anything that can be debated. But Jared wouldn’t want us to be sad. He’d tell us we have to move on and we have to live in the present. Living in the past isn’t going to do us any good. We’ll never get anywhere in life that way. We can’t live in the future either. We have to just live in today and that was what Jared did. He lived in the moment and that was what made him so bright and beautiful, so optimistic and happy, so genuinely _good_. They say that the good die young and I think that’s true, too. Because Jared was better than all of us. We can never do anything to be as good as him, no matter how much we try. Jared was inherently good and trying to _make_ yourself inherently good is what will only make you greedy and selfish in the end. I guess what I’m trying to say is, be yourself because that’s what Jared would have wanted you to do, but never forget Jared and how he would have responded to good things. Treat people as he did, help the world like he did in the short time he was here. Be kind to each other. And live your life today instead of yesterday or tomorrow. Do that and I know, beyond a doubt, you will honor Jared’s memory.”

\- - -

After the church service was over, they buried Jared. Jensen wasn’t one of the pallbearers because he was still recovering and Mrs. Padalecki didn’t want him to strain himself.

He watched as his boyfriend was lowered into the ground with dry eyes. It seemed as though his grief had reached a point beyond tears. After the priest said ‘ashes to ashes’, the group went over for lunch under a nearby tent. Despite the rain, it was a nice day out and no one wanted to go inside for food. Someone had set up a music system and was softly playing Just Breathe by Pearl Jam. Jensen, who was the only person still standing at Jared’s graveside, smiled slightly.

It’d been close to the end when Jared had told him Pearl Jam was his favorite band and they’d put on one of the records that Jared had gotten for his birthday one year, listening to it as they played cards together. This had been one of his favorite songs.

Jensen jumped when he felt a hand pulling his own, lacing their fingers together. He turned and saw Mackenzie standing next to him, staring down into the hole where Jared’s coffin made of glossy mahogany lay. It was almost strange to think that this was where he would lie until the world turned him into little more than dirt.

“That was a good speech you made,” she told him, glancing up into his eyes, squinting slightly from the sun that had come out from behind one of the clouds. “Jared would’ve liked it. Especially the last bit.”

Jensen smiled. “Thanks,” he said.

“You know, you should heed your own advice,” she told him. “Live in the present, not the past or the future. It’d do you some good.”

Jensen sighed. “I don’t think I can do that right now, Kenzie.”

“Well, according to you, you won’t be honoring Jared’s memory then,” she replied.

Jensen turned to her. “I just _lost_ him, Kenzie,” he said angrily. “You can’t expect me to just move on just like that.”

She shook her head. “I don’t,” she said. “But I do expect you to work towards it. Not just because that’s what would be good for you, but because that is exactly what Jared would want you to do and what he’d be doing if it were you that died.”

He turned away from her, frustrated. She was right. Jared was a much better person than he could ever hope to be and if it had been Jensen who’d died, Jared would be trying to move on, both for himself and for those around him. Jensen looked up to the pine green tent that was covering Jared’s gravesite. If he didn’t try to move on, he’d turn into the person he’d been before he’d reconnected with Jared, before they got together, before they were truly in love with one another. He didn’t like that person very much. Mackenzie was right. He had to move on. Or at least try to.

“Okay,” he said softly, turning his eyes back to the coffin in the ground in front of them. “I’ll try. I will. I promise.”

Mackenzie wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you,” she said, smiling. She kissed his cheek when she pulled away.

She was about to run back to the reception when she pointed over Jensen’s shoulder and said, “Look! Jared approves too!”

Jensen looked and saw a magnificent rainbow arching over the treetops.

“How do you know that’s Jared?” he asked skeptically.

“Who else could it be?” she asked and she bounded away.

Jensen looked at the rainbow. It glittered as the rain fell through it. He smiled, watching the sun shine through the clouds, through the rainbow, right on the top of the tent. He stepped out from underneath it and let the sun warm him. Mackenzie was right. This had to be Jared. It really couldn’t be anyone else.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “I promise, Jared. Don’t worry about me, everything’s going to be okay.”

And with that he went to join his family at the reception.

 

**_fin_ **


End file.
